“I made it for you.”
Abby could only stare at her sister. “How could that be? You didn’t even know you’d ever see me again.”
“I knew,” Carrie said softly. “I always knew I’d see you again. And when I did, I wanted to have this dress ready for you. It’s the gown I’d always pictured you wearing.” She laughed, that clear, childish laugh that Abby had always loved. “You ought to be married in this, you know.”
“Who’d marry me?” Abby scoffed. But her heart had already leaped at the thought.
“Rourke. His feelings are there in his eyes every time he looks at you.”
Abby blushed, making Carrie laugh even more. “You can’t hide a thing like that from me. It’s in your eyes too.”
The two girls fell into each other’s arms again, and then Carrie steered her sister toward the bedroom. “Come on. You’re going to wash off the grime of the trail and try on the gown I made for you. And while you do, you’re going to tell me all about Pa and Aunt Vi and everyone else from the train.”
Abby went very still, wondering how to tell her little sister. She started with the good news about Aunt Vi, then ended with the cholera and their father’s death. By the time Abby had told Carrie about the massacre in the Sierras, and about her father’s admission that she was really Lily’s daughter, she and Carrie had shed a hundred tears.
“But we’ve found each other again,” she whispered, clinging to Carrie as she wept. “And you and Will are happy. It’s all I ever wanted for you.”
When Will entered, the two girls looked up.
“You mean Rourke hasn’t come with the horses?” he asked.
Alarmed, Abby said, “We were so busy talking we forgot the time.”
“I’ll go find him,” Will offered.
“No.” Abby touched his arm. “You stay with Carrie. I’ll go to the stable.”
“Hurry back,” Carrie called as her sister ran to the door. “I’ll have supper ready.”
* * * * *
Proudly wearing her new gown, Abby paraded past the shops and stores, feeling the stares of the people of the town. When she passed the hotel, she peered inside. The men from the jury were having supper, along with most of the men from town. There was a festive air, as people celebrated the end of an exciting trial.
When she came to the stable, she was surprised to find the door closed and bolted from the inside.
Pounding on the door, Abby shouted. “Rourke. Are you in there? Rourke, it’s me. Open up.”
She felt a tiny thread of fear. What if he’d left without telling her? Her heart denied it immediately. He wouldn’t do such a thing. He wouldn’t.
“Rourke.”
Just as she lifted her fist to pound again, the door was thrown open and she was yanked inside. The door slammed shut and she heard the bolt shoved into position. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she realized that she was staring at a gun pointed at her head. And the man holding the gun was Flint Barrows.
“Flint.” She saw the evil grin on his face and felt her heart plummet. “Where is Rourke?”
“Your handsome lover is over here,” he said, jerking her roughly by the arm.
As they rounded a stall, she came to an abrupt halt. Her heart nearly stopped beating.
Rourke was sitting astride his horse, his arms tied behind him, a noose, tied to a wooden beam, around his neck. His handkerchief had been stuffed into his mouth to keep him from warning her.
“Now isn’t this cozy?” Flint said. “We have the man who killed my brothers and the lady he loves.”
“Your ... brothers?” Abby felt her head spinning. What was happening here. None of this made any sense.
“The two men traveling with the Borders brothers happened to be my brothers, Ben and Carl.”
“The Borderses,” Abby muttered, stalling for time, “and the Barrowses?”
“That’s right. The famous Barrows brothers.”
“But there were three men traveling with them.”
Flint laughed, and Abby felt her nerves tighten. “My two brothers and me.”
“You”—she moistened lips gone suddenly dry— “were with them when they killed Rourke’s wife and baby?”
“Now aren’t you the smart one? You figured that out all by yourself.” Flint laughed again, and Abby found herself staring into the eyes of a madman.
Flint slapped at Rourke’s mount, causing the horse to sidestep. The noose around Rourke’s neck tightened, forcing him to sit higher to keep from being strangled.
“Let him go, Flint,” Abby pleaded.
“Now why should I do that? It would spoil all the fun.” His voice lifted to a screech. “I’ve had a long time to plan this. I used to lie awake nights thinking how I’d get even with the man who killed my brothers. Course,” he added with a sly smile, “I didn’t know the gunman on our wagon train was the man I was looking for. I was busy with a little Indian kid when he burst in on us. All I saw was a blue uniform and the flash of a gun. But when I saw that wanted poster with Captain Daniel Rourke’s name on it, I managed to put it all together. And his testimony at the trial filled in the last gaps. Now that I know who he is, I intend to have my revenge.”
Her mind raced. She had to get Rourke down from there before Flint carried out his threat to hang him. She forced her voice not to waver. Attempting to sound seductive, she said, “Let him go and I’ll give you anything you want.”
Flint threw back his head and roared. “Honey, I’m going to have what I want anyway. You don’t have to give. I’ll just take. Hell, taking’s half the fun.”
Glancing up at Rourke, he gave him a satanic grin. “Now I’m going to show you what I did to your wife before I killed her. Cause I want you to suffer a long time before you die.” Pressing the gun to Abby’s throat, he said, “Take off that pretty dress, Miss Abby Market.”
“No.”
Still grinning, Flint slapped at Rourke’s mount again, causing the horse to back away. The noose around Rourke’s neck tightened.
Flint’s smile vanished. “Now you strip, lady, or your lover’s going to swing.”
With trembling fingers Abby unbuttoned the gown and slipped it from her shoulders.
From his position on the horse, Rourke watched with a feeling of helpless rage. It wasn’t enough that he had been forced to endure visions of Katherine all these nights. Now he would have to spend a lifetime seeing Abby’s face as well. For the rest of his life he would hear her cries while this madman had his way.
As Abby slid the gown from her shoulders, Flint moved closer. “You’re even prettier than I expected. It’s going to be fun watching that creamy skin melt at my touch.” He turned toward the man on the horse. “I’ll take it slow and easy so you get plenty of time to watch, Rourke.”
With his head turned, Flint didn’t see the movement as Abby slid her hand into the pocket of her gown and withdrew the little handgun. When Flint turned toward her, his eyes widened in shock and surprise.
“Why you little...”
As he lunged she fired. He fell against her and she fired again, then leaped to one side as his body crashed to the floor.
For long moments she stared down at the figure slumped on the floor of the stable. Then she stared at the gun in her hands.
“You once told me to keep it with me at all times.” She gave a shaky little laugh, and Rourke feared she might become hysterical. “I’m a fast learner. And once I learn something, I never forget.”
Stepping around the body on the floor, she stared up at Rourke. Then, in a tight, little voice, she said, “Now I’m a killer too, Rourke. As much a killer as you.”
Lowering his head, he moaned softly. What had he done? Dear God, what had he done to Abby?
With trembling fingers she cut Rourke’s hands free, and then the noose.
Before he could even comfort her they heard footsteps running toward the stable and the sound of voices raised. When Rourke opened the door, and the sheriff and a crowd from the tow
n rushed in, Abby was standing in the middle of the room, one trembling hand holding the front of her gown closed, the other still holding the gun.
Rourke longed to go to her and just hold her. But half the town was standing there, staring at her as if she were mad.
At Rourke’s insistence, Abby was escorted back to her sister’s while he went to the jail to give the sheriff” an account of the incident. Dazed, Abby allowed herself to be led away.
* * * * *
Out of habit, Rourke sat at the rear table of the saloon. He downed the whiskey in one swallow, then poured another.
What had he done to Abby? He tipped his head back and drank. Made a killer of her, that’s what he’d done. Hadn’t she said as much?
Several of the townspeople glanced his way but, seeing the dark scowl on his face, decided to leave him to his own company. Rourke wasn’t the kind of man you pushed.
Seeing her in that goddamned gown had only made it harder to bear. There she was, looking like some kind of a dream, and he had to watch her being tormented by scum like Barrows. Helpless. He’d been completely helpless. All he could do was watch. Watch her defend herself. Watch her kill Flint Barrows. And then watch her endure the stares of the townspeople.
She deserved so much better.
He poured another drink, drank it, then corked the bottle and stood. He’d take the rest with him for the trail.
Stowing the bottle in his gear, he mounted and rode to Carrie and Will’s little house. As he walked to the front door, he steeled himself. He would make it quick and final.
Abby opened the door at his first knock.
“Come in.”
He shook his head. “What I have to say is better said out here.”
Puzzled, Abby stepped onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind her.
Rourke studied her in the glow from the windows. He felt his throat go dry. For a moment the air rushed from his lungs, leaving him speechless. How had he ever thought her skinny? How could she have ever considered herself plain? She was stunning. A riot of fiery curls spilled about her cheeks and danced on her shoulders. She was wearing the new gown, which nearly matched her eyes. Embroidered roses and little velvet leaves competed with the creamy skin of her throat and bare shoulders. It showed off her tiny waist and displayed enough rounded flesh at the bosom to make his heart pump a little faster. No man could ever dismiss her beauty. A man could kill for her. Or fall to his knees and beg. If, he thought with a pang, the man had a right. She deserved a man who could offer her everything. A home. Family. A future.
“Will and Carrie are waiting for you inside.”
“I’m not staying.”
“We’re going? Tonight?”
He fought to keep his tone even. “I’m going. You’re staying here.”
“Staying? Why?”
“Because this is where you belong, Abby. You’ve made it to California. You’ve found your sister. Family. That’s important to you.”
“You’re important to me,” she said, feeling the panic rise. This couldn’t be happening. He wouldn’t leave her after all they’d been through.
“You think I’m important, because you’re grateful that I brought you here. But this is what’s really important to a woman like you, Abby. Home, family. Look at you.” His voice rose and he cursed himself. This was no time to get emotional.
“What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing. That’s just the point. You look so perfect, wearing a grand dress, standing on a porch. This is what you need. A home. A family. A white picket fence. With me, all you’ll ever get is moving on, looking for a better place. All I can ever give you is a hard trail and a cold meal.”
“I’ll settle for that.”
“No. Dammit, listen to me. You deserve the best. You deserve better than I can ever give you. That’s why I’m leaving. And that’s why you’re staying here. You deserve a whole man, Abby. One who isn’t haunted by the past. One who can give you a bright future. I’m only half a man. And I don’t think I’ll ever be whole again.”
“Rourke, I...”
He turned his back on her, cutting her off. He couldn’t bear to hear her speak words of love. It was like cutting out his heart to leave her. But it was for her own good. If he really loved her, he had to let her go. She would find a good steady man in this town and live like her sister. Like a lady. It was all he could give her.
Pulling himself into the saddle, he kept his face averted. He couldn’t bear to look at her. It would hurt too much.
Abby watched as horse and rider started along the street. She’d once told him she could take care of herself. And so she would, she thought, as tears threatened to cloud her vision.
Behind her the door opened. Carrie and Will, listening at the door, had heard everything.
It was Carrie who broke the silence.
“Are those tears?”
Angrily, Abby wiped at her eyes. “Of course they are. When I’m hurt I cry. What do you think I am, a mule?”
“I used to think you were,” her little sister admitted. “I used to think you and Pa were cut from the same cloth. But now I realize you’re a woman. A woman in love. Now what do you intend to do about it?”
“What can I do?” Abby moaned. “He’s left me because he thinks he’s only half a man.”
Carrie and Will shared a knowing look.
“I fell in love with a man who thought he was only half a man too,” Carrie said softly. “And I had to prove to him that I loved him so much, his missing arm made no difference.”
“And with Carrie’s love,” Will added, “I realized I was whole again.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with Rourke.”
“Don’t you?” Carrie smiled at her sister. “Maybe his heart is broken because you hold the other half. And if you’re the woman I think you are, you ought to be able to convince Rourke that he’s never going to be whole again without you.”
“But how?”
“That’s up to you,” Carrie said, kissing her sister’s cheek. “You’ll think of something.”
Abby watched as the shadowy figure of man and horse moved further along the street. Soon they would be leaving the town behind.
Grabbing up the hem of her skirt, Abby started running, and cursed her clumsiness. What she needed were her old britches and shirt and a sturdy pair of boots.
She shouted Rourke’s name, but he never stopped, never slowed down. Running faster, she passed the stable, the mercantile, the hotel, the saloon. As she passed the jail, she found herself running out of breath. Soon, very soon now, he’d leave her in his dust.
“Rourke.” She shouted at the top of her lungs, but the figure on horseback continued at a steady pace.
“Damn you, Rourke,” she shrieked.
Pulling the gun from her pocket, she aimed and fired, sending his hat flying.
Stunned, he wheeled his horse and drew his gun.
Everyone in the saloon came running into the street to watch the gunfight. From the jail, the sheriff came running, carrying a shotgun.
Seeing Abby, Rourke’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell’s the matter with you, woman?”
“It’s about time you called me a woman,” she said.
“You nearly killed me.”
“If I’d wanted you dead, you’d be lying on the ground right now. Next time, I’ll part your hair so neat you’ll never have to comb it again.”
Rourke thought about Mordecai’s story around the campfire and felt the beginnings of a smile.
“All right, what is this about?” the sheriff called, running between them.
“Rourke says he’s leaving without me. I say he isn’t.”
“What do you intend to do about it,” Rourke asked, “hold me here against my will?”
“No. You’re taking me with you.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I love you. Because Aunt Vi said that when I found a man I loved, I should never let him get away. And because you lov
e me too, Rourke. You’re just too dumb yet to know it.”
Everyone in the crowd began laughing.
Rourke’s eyes narrowed. Moving closer, he reached down and dragged her roughly into his arms. “Why would I love a woman with a hair-trigger temper who goes around shooting at me?”
“And why would I love a man who may never settle down? Who can’t offer me anything better than a cold meal and a rough trail?”
“Why?” he asked, drawing her closer.
“Because we’re both too dumb to know better,” she murmured, shoving the gun deep into her pocket.
“Looks like I’m stuck with you.”
“Stuck.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hell, Captain Daniel Rourke. We make a good team and you know it.”
He swallowed back the smile that threatened. “I know one thing. If you ever call me Daniel again, I’ll put you over my knee. The name’s Rourke.” He threw back his head and roared. “Just plain Rourke. And we’re changing your name to Abby Rourke just as fast as we can find a preacher. Then it’ll be too late for you to change your mind.”
Abby brought her lips close to his, feeling the familiar tingle that always began when he touched her. “I don’t care where we go, or what we do, Rourke, as long as we’re together. I’m never going to change my mind about that.”
His mouth came down on hers, hard, bruising. Everything he felt, all the love, all the longing, all the passion, were conveyed in that kiss.
The sheriff and townspeople watched as the two figures rode off into the darkness.
From their porch, two young people smiled, and watched until the figures disappeared. Then, arm in arm, they walked inside their little house.
Home, Abby thought, clinging tightly to Rourke, as the night wind tousled her hair. Home was just another name for love. And the three Market women had found enough for a lifetime.
The End
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Thank you!
Ruth Ryan Langan
* * * * *
Ruth Ryan Langan
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