Whirlwind Cowboy Page 21

  Was she right? Had he tried to protect himself by getting her out of town before she could leave him?

  Maybe so. He could admit now that he had proposed marriage to her two months ago because he thought it would make her stay. It wasn’t that he hadn’t meant the proposal—he’d meant every word, and would’ve done it at some point. But when she’d said she was taking the teaching job and leaving, he decided if he didn’t keep her here with him, she would never come back.

  “What if Deborah really isn’t sure she wants to teach anymore?” Jake pulled off his worn leather gloves and tucked them into the back pocket of his jeans. “People’s priorities change, Bram.”

  “From something she’s wanted and worked for her whole life?”

  “She says she wants to give you what you want.”

  She’d shown him her intent to stay, her commitment to them by telling him of the future plans she’d made. Recalling what she’d said about tutoring Andrew and working with Annalise dimmed Bram’s anger. He didn’t want to let go of his anger.

  She’d been shocked upon receiving that letter. And confused. Learning he was behind it had hurt her. She had looked at him as if he’d violated her. A man didn’t just forget that.

  Even if he didn’t understand why, it was obvious he had caused her pain and handled the situation badly. Had he ruined what was between them?

  If she really had feelings for him, very deep feelings, wouldn’t she have understood what he did?

  “You need to talk to her. Try and set it straight. Don’t wait.”

  “And what do I do if she decides to take the job?”

  “Y’all work it out. She might not even have to leave in order to teach.”

  “If she wants a classroom right now, she does. Unless Tucker is fired or something happens to him, she can’t teach in Whirlwind and there’s no reason for Tucker to get fired.”

  “You have to decide if you’re going to trust her. That’s what being together is about. It’s a decision.”

  A decision?

  Jake clapped him on the shoulder. “Just remember she’s never given you a reason to think she’d do anything like Ma.”

  She hadn’t done anything yet. As Bram watched his brother step outside and move the horses into the corral, he realized trusting her was a decision.

  He just wasn’t sure it was one he could make.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Bram wanted her gone? Well, she would be happy to oblige him.

  When they’d fought the night he had proposed, Deborah had thought nothing could hurt that badly again. Finding out that he would rather she leave than trust her to return made her feel as if her chest were cracking open.

  Her temper hadn’t cooled even an hour later after she’d told her family what had happened. In the emotional aftermath, she almost lost sight of the fact that she’d remembered what had happened in Monaco.

  During the drive home, she had shared with Jericho that she had witnessed Cosgrove killing his mother. She also confided in him about what had happened with the school board in Abilene and the set-to with Bram.

  Once they arrived home and were settled in the parlor with the rest of the family, her brother helped her explain everything, including why Bram didn’t trust her. After everyone had calmed down, Jericho asked the question she had yet to ask herself.

  “Are you going to take the job, Deborah?”

  “Truth be told, I haven’t thought about it. This business with Bram knocked it clean out of my head.”

  Just last night they’d been as close as a man and woman could be. She didn’t regret the intimacy they had shared and she was angry that he’d ruined what was between them.

  In less than a day, she had gone from experiencing the best thing that had ever happened to her to the worst, both involving the same man.

  Rising, she went to the window and looked out over the rippling prairie grass. “I’m really not sure if I still want to teach.”

  “Don’t give it up for a man, like you did before,” Jordan warned.

  She didn’t want to.

  Marah shook her head. “I can’t believe Bram would do something so mean.”

  “Neither can I,” Michal added.

  Jericho sat forward on the sofa. “You sure you didn’t misunderstand or read it wrong?”

  No, she wasn’t sure. Anger and hurt had been all she’d felt since learning about his part in the letter to the school board. Now doubt crept in.

  Had Bram really realized what he was doing?

  He hadn’t denied it when she confronted him about it, but when she had accused him of hoping to get rid of her, there had been a flicker of some emotion in his face. Realization and then something she had thought was guilt. Now she didn’t know what to think.

  She moved to stand between the sofa and the chair where her mother sat.

  Jessamine looked up. “Have you considered accepting the job?”

  “Yes.” The idea of leaving Bram behind definitely appealed to her right now. The man flat riled her up.

  “Are you thinking about it because you’re angry at Bram?”

  “Yes.” Which irritated her. “Even though I shouldn’t base any decision on him, especially this.”

  “You don’t have to decide this minute.” The older woman patted her hand. “Take a little time and think about it.”

  Jericho leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “If you want this job, sister, you should take it. I doubt you’ll get another chance.”

  “Won’t that just prove to Bram that he was right about me?”

  “Maybe, but if you stay here to prove him wrong, you’re the one who will lose.” He shrugged. “Besides, both of you might be right.”

  “How can that be?”

  “You may not want to teach anymore after you get a taste of those hellions,” he said with a grin.

  “Oh, Jericho,” Jessamine chided.

  He winked at Deborah. Though she smiled at her brother’s teasing, she knew he was serious. And he might have a point.

  “If you do take the job, it would give you and Bram a chance to cool off,” her brother pointed out.

  She wished she knew what to do. She wished the only emotion inside her was anger, but it wasn’t.

  After several more minutes, Jericho took his leave, hugging Deborah tight before he left. “If you need any help with Bram, you let me know.”

  “What kind of help?”

  He tapped the butt of his holstered pistol.

  That got a smile out of her. “Oh, you. Go on.”

  She knew he was teasing, although shooting Bram had certainly crossed her mind. Hadn’t the night they’d spent together meant anything to him? He’d been her first. Her only.

  At the memory of what they had shared, bittersweet pain cut her breath. She thought back to the moment she had accused him of wanting to get rid of her. The shock on his face had been genuine. So had the confusion.

  Had she accused him unfairly? What if he was just as hurt as she was?

  The hollowness in her chest said her suspicions about his motives showed she’d been correct. Even if he hadn’t realized what he was doing, he surely knew now. Knew how hurt she was. Yet there was no sign of him.

  The fact that he hadn’t come after her meant she hadn’t made a mistake, didn’t it?

  They were well and truly over.

  She choked back a sob. She’d done all the crying she was going to. Being with her family comforted her, but she also felt crowded.

  She stepped out on the porch. “I’m going to water the cow and the horse.”

  “Want some help?” Jordan asked.

  “No, thanks.”

  Once outside, she went around the right side of the house. The pump was located ab
out halfway between the back stoop and the barn. Deborah picked up the bucket standing at the base of the pump and filled it with water.

  Curling both hands around the handle, she walked carefully to the back of the barn, trying to keep from spilling. Bossy stood in her stall, tail flicking lazily. The heat magnified the odors of dirt and cow flesh.

  Deborah placed the bucket in front of the cow and scooped up an empty one on her way out.

  After pumping water into the second pail, she bent to pick it up. Just as she straightened, a hard muscular arm hooked around her throat and squeezed.

  The bucket fell, water quickly soaking into the thirsty earth and wetting the hem of her gray skirts. Panicked, she struggled against the choking pressure around her neck. In the next breath, she felt a sharp prick against her neck.

  “Quiet,” a masculine voice ordered.

  Cosgrove! Fighting to stay calm, she stood still, trying to judge the situation.

  The outlaw increased the pressure around her neck, cutting off more of her air. He rubbed his bristly cheek against hers. “I thought I’d never get you alone.”

  “What...do you want?” she asked hoarsely.

  He tightened his arm, crushing her windpipe. “You know.”

  Going up on her tiptoes to keep him from strangling her, she started to shake her head. The blade cut into her skin. It stung and she blinked back tears.

  “You’re going to take me to the money you stole from me.”

  “You stole it from the bank!” she croaked, unable to stop the words.

  He pushed harder against her windpipe and she felt herself growing faint. Her pistol was still in her pocket. If she could reach it, she could at least fire and signal that she was in trouble.

  He jerked around, hauling her with him to the side of the barn. She struggled to keep her feet under her, frantic for air, desperate to ease his hold. She stumbled and the blade bit into her neck again. He half carried, half dragged her with him, her skirts making a swishing noise in the grass.

  A red roan gelding stood a few yards away. Spots danced in front of her eyes. Something lay on the ground near the horse. Cosgrove dragged her to the mount and she gasped. Not something. Someone!

  It was Duffy—motionless, facedown in the grass. His back was covered in blood. He’d been stabbed.

  Cosgrove’s steel-hard arm cut off the scream welling up inside her. Her family had no idea this murderer was so close. Was he planning to kill all of them?

  “Do what I say or I’ll cut you. You won’t die like this old man, though. I’ll keep you alive until I get that money.”

  She’d witnessed him murdering his mother; he wouldn’t let her live any longer than he needed her. She couldn’t tell him the money had already been returned to the bank.

  She needed to convince him the money was hidden somewhere, but where?

  One arm still around her throat, he pushed her toward the gelding. “Mount up.”

  She couldn’t get on that horse. Fear made her wild and she swung, landing a blow to his nose. He backhanded her, snapping her head to the side. She screamed and he hit her again. Tasting the salty tang of blood, she reeled, trying not to fall.

  He hauled her up and shoved a dirty bandanna into her mouth, then threw her into the saddle. Before she could blink, he scrambled up behind her.

  A sudden burst of voices sounded from the house. Stunned, her jaw throbbing with pain, Deborah could barely make sense of what was happening, but she knew to fight.

  She clawed at his face. He punched her and her head jerked back, light flashing behind her eyes. She sagged forward.

  Cosgrove grabbed the reins and clucked to the horse. The animal lunged into motion, tossing Deborah to the side. The outlaw’s free arm locked her to him as they raced off.

  Her mind dazed by his latest blow, she struggled sluggishly.

  Voices yelled. Her mother. Jordan. Gunfire erupted, bullets whizzing past.

  Cosgrove cursed and she hoped he was shot. But if he was, he stayed upright. The horse kept moving, pounding across the prairie toward a narrow grove of trees.

  The sound of gunfire grew faint. She heard a distant scream of horror and her heart squeezed. Had someone found Duffy?

  Nauseous, she fought not to be sick. She wrapped her clammy hands around the pommel as they bounced along. Beneath the odors of horseflesh and earth, the smell of Cosgrove’s too-sweet cologne nearly choked her.

  The ride was jarring, snapping her teeth together. Grass and dirt flew beneath the horse’s hooves. After long moments, they barreled down the side of a gully. Cosgrove yanked the roan to a stop at the base and seized both of Deborah’s wrists with one of his hands, squeezing with bone-crushing pressure.

  While he grabbed the rope lashed to the saddle, she reared back, trying to throw him off.

  She managed to free one hand and made the awkward reach for her gun. Her hand closed over it and her finger found the trigger as she brought the weapon up.

  He grabbed her arm, wrestling her for the weapon. She fought to hold on, but he twisted her hand back until the gun tumbled out of her hold to the ground.

  She couldn’t see where it fell. He lashed her hands to the pommel, causing a sharp pain to shoot up her arm. Once he had her secured, he gripped her jaw hard and turned her face toward him.

  “Tell me where the money is.”

  “And you’ll let me go?”

  “Hell, no.” He barked out a disbelieving laugh.

  He would never willingly release her. Not alive anyway. Horror spread through her chest, a pulsing molten pain.

  She’d lost her gun, but not her last chance for escape, if she was smart. Cosgrove wanted the money, which she didn’t have.

  Her mind raced. It would take time for her sisters to get word to Jericho. Or Bram. Despite what had happened between them, he would come. For Cosgrove, definitely. For her, maybe.

  She swallowed back the hurt. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was staying alive.

  Shaking so hard her teeth chattered, she battled to remain calm, to think.

  Cosgrove flashed the knife an inch from her face, the blade glittering in the sun. “Start talking.”

  She had to take him somewhere close, somewhere they could be found quickly once word got out that Cosgrove had taken her.

  “Don’t think about lying. You make me waste time around here, I’ll cut you.”

  “It’s a cabin,” she croaked, her throat dry and bruised from the punishing hold he’d had on her. “On the other side of Circle R land.”

  She’d said it without thinking it through. Bram might be the only one who would think to look there.

  Cosgrove pinched her arm, hard. “You take me for a fool? You think I’m going to ride past Bram Ross and his brother?”

  She had to make him believe her. “That’s where it is.”

  His normally trimmed hair was ragged and dirty. He stared at her, his dark eyes piercing.

  It took everything she had to hold his gaze. She could hardly breathe.

  He gripped her jaw. “Let’s go. You better pray we don’t run into any of them.”

  That wasn’t all she was praying for. An hour ago, she hadn’t wanted to see Bram ever again. Now he was all she wanted.

  * * *

  Bram chewed on what Jake had said and tried to hang on to his anger, but he kept seeing the hurt in Deborah’s eyes, the betrayal. Yes, she’d been right about him.

  Did it even matter that he hadn’t been aware of what he’d done until she lit into him for it?

  The whole reason he’d asked Scoggins to send the letter was that he couldn’t stand seeing the stricken look on her face. The school board had put it there the first time. The second time was all him.

  He couldn’t let it stand. As much as he ha
ted the thought of telling her she’d been right about him, hated the thought of hurting her all over again, he had to go to her. When he looked to the future, he saw himself with her. Not without her.

  He didn’t know if they could work things out, but he wanted to try. What if it was too late? What if she was finished with him?

  What if she had accepted that job?

  He muttered a curse. If she agreed to teach in Abilene, what would he do? Bram didn’t know. Still, he couldn’t leave things like this between them.

  After telling his family where he was going, he headed for her home.

  He was well away from his house when he saw a horse racing toward him. Skirts billowed behind. As the bay neared, he realized the rider was Jordan Blue.

  Alarm shot through him. There could be no good reason for Deborah’s sister to be riding as if she’d seen the devil. Unless she had.

  “Dammit.” Bram reined up as her mount danced to a stop beside him. Dread snaked through him.

  “Cosgrove has Deborah,” Jordan panted, eyes huge in her pale face.

  A black haze blurred his vision. “How long?”

  “Minutes. He stabbed Duffy.”

  “Let’s go.” Bram kneed Scout into a full-out run and Deborah’s sister kept up.

  They reached the house in short order and he followed her around to the barn where Mrs. Blue and the other girls were waiting. He slid off his mount and helped Jordan down before going to where he saw a man sprawled in the grass. Duffy.

  As Jordan had said, the cowhand had been stabbed. He lay there limp, his face waxy, his chest moving shallowly. He was alive. Barely.

  Anger made Bram’s voice sharp. “What happened?”

  “Deborah said she was going out to water the animals,” Mrs. Blue answered. “We heard a scream and came running.”

  He moved along the side of the wagon to help Jordan hitch up the bay. Bram scanned the dirt and grass around the barn. He didn’t see more blood, which was a relief. Beside the pump was an overturned bucket and a ring of damp red dirt where the water had already soaked into the hard ground.