Breaking the Rules

Chapter One

“Elizabeth Francine McCready! Get your skinny little butt up to this house and clean all that mud off of you! Your father will whip you good and fire me too if he sees you looking like that!” Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she stomped her boots to clean some of the mud from them and walked up toward the house.

“See you later Frank.” she said to the crusty old ranch hand she had helped wrangling steers. He gave her a dismissive wave and went back to work. Elizabeth looked down at her brown trousers and white blouse, all thoroughly caked with mud and then smiled up at Anita, the plump woman who had been like a mother to her growing up since her own mother had died when she had only been a baby.

“I’m nineteen years old Anita, a bit too old for pa to whip me just for getting muddy.” Elizabeth said matter of factly. Anita shook her head as she looked the girl up and down.

“It’s not just that you got muddy girl, it’s that you got muddy when your father is on his way back with a man.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes and took the brown leather, stetson hat from her head.

“Another one?” she asked as Anita ushered her into the house.

“Yes dear, another one.” Anita led Elizabeth down the hall to the girls bedroom and waited patiently for her to undress and slide into the hot bath water Anita had just gotten done putting in the large metal tub.

“When is he going to realize that I’m not interested in having a husband? I won’t marry just anybody.” Elizabeth said as she began to wash the mud from her soft skin with the rose scented soap.

“He wouldn’t bring you just anybody.” Anita said patiently as she undid the long plait braid from Elizabeth’s thick blond hair. “All the men he has brought here have been very good picks… They would have made good husbands.” Anita smiled because she could practically ‘hear’ Elizabeth’s eyes rolling.

“Well I don’t want a good husband, I want a great husband. Besides aren’t the days of arranged marriages over? I want to pick my own husband.”

“You can. Just so long as you pick one your father likes.” Anita replied as she grabbed the hairbrush off the vanity and handed it to Elizabeth who muttered some words under her breath that would have her dead Christian mother rolling over in her grave.

“Now finish getting cleaned up and put on that dress that I have lying on the bed. Do something pretty with your hair and don’t come out until you look like a presentable lady.”

“Why are you pushing me so hard to get married? I figured you’d be on my side seeing as how you’ve never been married.” Anita sighed and put her hands on her plump hips.

“Not that it’s any of your business missy, but I’ve never been married because I just couldn’t find a cowboy worth my time. I was too picky and now I’m alone and couldn’t turn a mans head if I walked buck naked down main street.” Elizabeth laughed.

“Oh I think you’d definitely turn heads.” she said matter of factly and then she ducked her head under the water. When she raised back up and wiped her eyes Anita was gone and so was her pile of dirty clothes and her boots.

She sighed as she wondered what kind of man her father was bringing home this time. Probably nobody she’d be interested in. She was finding that what she wanted in a man and what her father wanted for her in a man were two very different things. He wanted money and security. She wanted a pair of big warm hands and a heart stopping smile. Maybe she’d get lucky and he’d bring home a man that had all four!

“Yeah right.” she muttered. “That’ll be the day pigs fly.” She wondered if it would be worth drowning herself as she sunk back down in the hot water.

XXX

Brody put his hat over his face to block the bright sun as he stretched out in the back of the small wagon and listened to his new boss and the man with the fancy suit talking up front.

He felt sorry for the guy in the suit, riding out to meet the woman that his new boss, Ernest McCready, said could be his wife. Brody sure as hell didn’t want a wife and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why any man would.

You’d spend all your money on their fancy clothes and expensive jewelry just so they’d cook a few meals and pop out some babies. Women were only good for three things and that was cooking, complaining and sex. Brody knew how to cook good enough to get by, he had an older brother that complained plenty and if he ever wanted sex, there was plenty of willing women at the whorehouse. Yep, he had no need for a wife because he already had all three things they were good for taken care of.

“What is your daughters name Mr. McCready?” the slick talking city man asked.

“Elizabeth. She’s a real beauty too, just like her mother was, Mr. Foster. You’ll like her just fine.”

“I’m sure I will sir, and please call me Grant.” Brody snorted and then quickly coughed to cover up the sound. Nothing like puckering your lips up to your soon to be, and very rich, father-in-laws ass.

“She’ll like you fine too I’m sure, Grant.”

“I hope so sir. The way you describe her, she sounds absolutely wonderful.”

“Yes she is.” Mr. McCready replied and Brody couldn’t help but wonder just how ugly the woman must be when she needed her father to find her a husband.

“So how many other hands you got out here Mr. McCready?” Brody asked, moving his hat back to the top of his head and leaning forward.

“You’ll make ten.” Mr. McCready replied.

“It’s lucky one of them hasn’t swept the little lady off her feet.” Brody said with a grin and this earned him a sharp look from both men up front.

“My Elizabeth is too good for the likes of a poor old ranch hand.” Mr. McCready said matter of factly. “She deserves a man who can provide her with a comfortable and stable life.” Brody nodded and then leaned back against the side of the wagon. Spoiled little princess is what it sounded like to him. Good luck with that, Grant.

Brody pulled a cigarette and a match from his pocket. He ran the match across his stubble covered cheek to spark a flame and then lit his cigarette and took a long draw.

Spoiled, ugly, rich girl was his guess. Fancy silk dress, powder on her face, lacey gloves and a slow working brain. That was what Elizabeth sounded like to him. Good damn thing he wasn’t good enough for her. He stretched out his long legs, crossed his ankles and stared at the passing prairie and occasional cluster of pines and oaks.

XXX

Elizabeth stared at herself in the full length mirror in her room and curled her nose. It’s not that she hated dresses but she hated the silky ones that her father and Anita always insisted she wear whenever a new man came to the house.

The bright pink fabric looked ridiculous and made her feel like a child instead of a grown woman. She had her hair pulled back on her head with pins and several long tendrils that curled slightly framed her face and neck. She looked into her own big green eyes and sighed.

“Why am I dressing up like this?” she asked out loud. Even if the new man liked what he saw when she looked like this, he’d be disappointed tomorrow when he came by and found her in trousers and a plain shirt with her hair pulled up beneath her hat, big boots on her feet, and her covered from head to toe in dust, dirt and mud.

She was half tempted to pull the clothes off and go downstairs in her work clothes but if there was one thing she hated to do, it was let her father down. If he wanted her to wear this ridiculous dress and bat her lashes at some gussied up man than that’s what she’d do… But she wasn’t going to marry the jerk.

XXX

Brody let out a long whistle when the house came into view. It was two stories with bright white walls and a black door and black shutters around the many windows. A wide porch wrapped around the first story with thick white banisters and pillars.

“Nice house.” he said as he crushed his cigarette against his boot and tossed it to the ground.

“Thank you.” Mr. McCready said as he pulled the wagon to a stop outside a large red barn and Brody leapt out of the wagon and landed with a thud in his boots. He reached back in the wagon and grabbed his canvas bag, left over from his time in the war and slung it over his shoulder.

“The bunkhouse is over there.” Mr. McCready pointed at a wooden building behind the barn. Brody nodded and then took in the rest of the ranch that was visible. A large corral was attached to the barn and another corral was to his left, filled with cattle and ranch hands. The hands were branding the young calves if the painful cries of the calves and the scent of singed fur and skin were any indication. Brody had always hated that process but he knew it was necessary

“Well go on and get your stuff put away Brody so you can get to work.” Mr. McCready said then the old man broke down into a fit of coughing. Brody raised a brow at the sound and quickly looked away from him and started toward the bunkhouse. He’d heard men during the war get coughs like that and usually it had ended with the coughing man being put in a shallow grave as the company moved on.

Brody made his way to the empty bunkhouse and looked around at the messy beds within. He rubbed the back of his dirty neck and walked to the end of the building to a bed that was still made and looked untouched. The small table beside it was empty and he figured this bed must be his. He put his bag down and then made his way back out to find the head ranch hand and figure out what they needed him to do.

XXX

“Elizabeth, darling, get down here. There is someone I would like for you to meet.” Ernest McCready called to his daughter. Grant stood nervously beside the window, twisting his gray derby hat in his hands. Marriage to Elizabeth McCready would make him a rich man. Ernest McCready was a sick man and everything he had, he would pass to his daughter upon his death. As her husband, Grant would be the one to be in charge of the ranch and the money.

Grant ran his hand through his slicked back dark hair and looked out the window. He wasn’t a bad man. Most marriages between higher class individuals were based on money and what both parties could stand to gain. Grant was a rich man and Elizabeth would gain that and status by marrying him since he was well known in all the political circles, his father being a senator in Virginia.

He heard the whoosh of skirts as someone made their way down the hallway and he turned to find it impossible to catch his breath as he took in the sight of the woman who had just entered the room.

Her pink satin and lace dress was tight up top, emphasizing her full breasts and tiny waist before flaring out at her womanly hips. Her neck was long and graceful and her face was truly breathtaking. Her nose was tiny and upturned slightly and her lips were pink and full. Her cheekbones were high and covered in a light dusting of freckles, visible even through the powder she had placed on her cheeks.

Her wide green eyes were framed with long blond lashes that matched the color of her hair, pulled up on her head with only a few long, curled tendrils framing her face and giving him the urge to gently push them out of her face and behind her ear.

“Elizabeth, this is Grant Foster. Mr. Foster, this is my daughter Elizabeth.” Mr. McCready beamed with pride as he introduced his daughter and Grant smiled.

“Hello Miss. McCready.” he said as he took her gloved hand and pressed his lips against the cool pink satin.

Elizabeth had to fight to keep from rolling her eyes as the man kissed her glove and then raised back up. Another one. Her father had brought her yet another rich, well dressed, prissy man.

Of course this one was better looking than some of the other ones. His dark hair was full of product and slicked back on his head. His blue eyes seem to sparkle as he looked at her. His face was somewhat softer than what she preferred but handsome none the less and his smile revealed perfect white teeth.

He was tall and his body was clearly lean and well built beneath his expensive gray suit and vest.

“Hello Mr. Foster, it is a pleasure to meet you.” she replied, doing her best to sound like a polite and proper lady.

“I am going to show Grant around the ranch, Elizabeth, perhaps you would accompany us?”

“Of course.” Elizabeth said to her father and then Grant held out his arm as he placed his derby hat back on his head.

“Allow me.” he said and his voice was warm. Elizabeth smiled and looped her arm through his and they followed his father out of the house.

Elizabeth did not pay attention to a single word her father and Grant spoke about the ranch as they walked. Instead she was focused on the calf branding going on and wishing she could jump the fence and help. Her place was working this ranch, not parading around in fancy dresses with a rich city slicker hanging off her arm.

“Come on Brody! You say you’re tough, break that beast!” she heard Braxton’s loud, booming voice call out, full of amusement. Elizabeth turned and looked at the corral behind the barn and her eyes widened at the sight of the wild mustang, leaping and bucking with a rider clinging to her back for dear life.

“What’s going on over there?” Grant asked and Elizabeth answered before her father could.

“Clearly, that man is trying, and failing, to break that mustang. It’s a hard thing to break a horse that doesn’t want to be broken.” Grant raised a brow and looked down at the woman on his arm.

“And what does a proper lady like you know about breaking mustangs?” he asked. Elizabeth wanted to let him know exactly how much she knew about the running of this ranch but one look at her father, and the warning look in his eyes, told her that he wouldn’t be happy if she did so.

“Just what I’ve seen through the windows of course.” she replied sweetly and she batted her lashed for good measure. Grant laughed. It was a light laugh and it filled her with irritation. Clearly he believed a woman’s place was in the home. Strike three for Mr. Foster. Strike one had been the fact that her father had chosen him. Strike two had been the city slicker outfit and hair style and strike three was being a male chauvinist who didn’t think a woman should know anything about a ranch.

Elizabeth looked back at the man on the horse and wondered who he was. She couldn’t see much about him since he was currently being tossed around like a rag doll. His shoulder length brown hair was blowing around his face and she assumed the brown leather stetson hat lying in the dirt was his.

She was happy that her father and Mr. Foster became lost in conversation about breaking horses then because it gave her the chance to watch the newest hand at work. She liked knowing what the men working for her were capable of.

XXX

So Brody had bitten off more than he could chew when he’d jumped on this mustang’s back. Clearly this lady needed more time to get to know her rider and required a bit more sweet talk than what he’d given to her, but dammit that damn Braxton had refused to keep his mouth shut and had goaded him into jumping right on her back.

Now he was clinging to her and his thighs were burning from the effort as he held big fist fulls of her mane in his hands and prayed he wouldn’t eat dirt in front of the big son of a bitch named Braxton.

Brody caught a flash of pink and looked over at the corral fence and his eyes were immediately drawn to the woman in between Grant and Mr. McCready. So this was Elizabeth McCready.

He’d been right about the silky dress, the fancy gloves and the powdered face but damn oh damn had he been wrong about the ugly. He’d been one hundred kinds of wrong about the ugly. She had the body and the face of an angel. The body and the face of a woman who could make a man change his mind about settling down.

Suddenly the mustang surged beneath him and he was too distracted by the sight of the boss’s daughter to right himself before he was tossed, very unceremoniously, onto his ass in the dirt. He jumped to his feet and ran for the fence as the mustang charged him. He grabbed his hat from the dirt and placed one hand on the fence, launching himself over it and placing his hat back on his head as he landed.

He saw the three onlookers on the other side of the corral, turn and walk back toward the house and he wiped the dust and dirt from his throbbing backside.

“You might as well forget about Elizabeth, Brody. Forget you even saw her. She’s more woman then any man can handle and she’s off limits to all us ranch hands anyway. The boss’ll fire you and place a bullet in your ass just for good measure as you ride away if you so much as think about laying a hand on his little girl.” Braxton said matter of factly. Brody snorted at the man, who was taller than his own six and a half feet, and broad as a bull with thick dark curls on his head and a handlebar mustache on his face.

“Who the hell are you talking about? I didn’t notice a single woman except for the one with four legs and fur that just knocked me on my ass.” Brody replied and Braxton shrugged as he chuckled.

“Whatever you say kid.” he said. Brody rolled his eyes and launched himself back over the corral fence. He walked to the center of the corral and sat down in the dust, taking his hat off and placing it on his lap. If the mustang needed sweet talking and time that’s what he’d give her…. Leave it to a woman to be so difficult about something.

Chapter Two

“No pa.” Elizabeth said for the thousandth time as she sat in her bedroom in the pink dress while running a brush through her hair.

“You haven’t him given him a chance Elizabeth.” Ernest McCready replied with frustration.

“I gave him all the chance I needed to give him. I’m not interested.” Elizabeth stated. She stood up and Ernest grumbled under his breath and walked over to the door.

“I’m not going to be around much longer.” he said sadly and as if to emphasize his point a fit of coughing struck him and left him gasping for breath as it subsided. Elizabeth frowned and felt tears prickling her eyes. She blinked them away and shook her head.

“You’re too ornery to die pa. You’ll outlive me.” Ernest shook his head.

“I don’t have a whole lot more time. I’d like to know that my daughter is married and has someone to take care of her once I’m gone.” Elizabeth sighed and flopped back down on the bed, this was a discussion she and her father had a lot.

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me pa. I can take care of myself and this ranch just fine and you know it. The last thing I need is some city man who doesn’t know a stallion from a mare.” Ernest laughed at his daughter.

“Even a blind man could tell the difference between a stallion and a mare sweetheart. Grant Foster is a good man. He’s got influence in the government, he’s rich….”

“I don’t care about influence and money pa. I want to marry a man one day who makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world.. I want to marry a man who truly loves me the way you loved mama.” Ernest sighed and pulled off his hat to rub his gray, balding head.

“You don’t know that Grant couldn’t give you that. You have to give him a chance.” Elizabeth sighed but stood her ground.

“Pa, I am not interested in Grant Foster.” But she came by her stubborn nature honestly and her father squared his shoulders.

“You are my daughter and you will do as I say. Grant is coming back out tomorrow and you will spend more time with him.” The pair glared at each other for several long moments before Elizabeth finally nodded. Her father’s harsh breathing causing her to feel a little more sympathy for his argument.

“Fine.” she said. “I’ll spend time with him tomorrow.” Ernest nodded and smiled, happy at his victory.

“Thank you.” he said. He walked out and closed the door.

“But I’m not getting all gussied up again!” she yelled, determined to have the last word. She stood up and curled her nose at the sight of her dress in the mirror. She reached behind to unbutton it, only to realize she couldn’t do it on her own.

“Damn dresses!” she cursed. She walked over to her bedroom door and opened it. She poked her head out in the hallway and called for Anita before walking back in her room. She hated feeling helpless and that’s exactly how this silky contraption on her body made her feel. Helpless.

“What is it Elizabeth? I’m trying to get supper on the table for you and your pa.”

“I need help undoing this damn dress.” Elizabeth grumbled.

“Watch your language.” Anita scolded as she set about undoing the buttons with quick practiced ease. She had done this nightly when Elizabeth’s mother had been alive.

“I gotta get my clothes back on and get out there and work.”

“The men are done with the branding, Cookie is making them all supper and they’re fixing to call it a night. There’s nothing else for you to do out there today. You should just put some clothes on and spend some time with you father.”

“I’m going to go into town in the morning and get Doctor Montgomery back out here to check him out. He sounds worse to me.” Elizabeth said with worry. Anita frowned as her arthritis curved fingers quickly braided the girls thick blond hair.

“I think the only reason he hasn’t given in to that cough already is sheer stubbornness.” she stated. “Well that and his determination to see you married before he goes.”

“I wish he’d give that up.”

“Your pa loves you. You should do what you can to make him happy.”

“Even marry a man I don’t love?” Elizabeth demanded. Anita nodded in the mirror and her old brown eyes looking suddenly resigned.

“Yes. Even that. Your father has dedicated his life to you and making sure you had the best of everything. He has never asked anything of you other then to marry before he died and he has brought you countless of very worthy men.” Elizabeth’s green eyes narrowed and she jerked away from Anita.

“Tell pa I’ll be down to supper shortly.” she said sharply. Anita sighed and walked over to the door.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes.” she said and walked out, shutting the door behind her. Elizabeth let out an angry feminine growl as she slid out of her dress and the voluminous (and highly annoying) petticoats. She pulled on a spit skirt and a white blouse and smiled. Anita hated it when she wore the split skirts. They weren’t what a proper lady would wear, she said. They made a woman seem scandalous and easy.

Elizabeth wasn’t easy, sure she’d broken the rules a time or two with ranch hands which had always resulted in her father finding out, the hand losing his job and Elizabeth being grounded to her room for days. She’d only actually had sex with one of those men and that had been a less then satisfying experience and she couldn’t figure out for the life of her why any woman would do it more than once.

Despite that, she liked to give Anita heart attacks so she wore the leather split skirts quite often. She smiled, satisfied that she would at least get a small victory today and then after washing the powder and make-up from her face with the water in the wash basin, she walked out of the room to go join her pa for supper.

888

Brody took a big bite of the runny gravy and stale biscuits that Cookie had given them for dinner. His mouth watered when he saw the large piece of McCready steak sitting next to it on his plate and decided quickly that he was saving it for last.

“I think your cooking is getting worse.” a young hand named Thomas complained. Cookie, who was old and crusty and not the least bit sweet like his name implied, glared at the boy and pointed his serving spoon at him.

“Shut up or go hungry.” he growled. “Be more like the new guy. You don’t hear him complaining about the food.” The hands looked at Brody who paused with his spoon in the air.

“I was in the war.” he said through a mouthful of food. “I’ve known what’s like to be so hungry you’re chewing on a strap of leather just to keep your stomach from rebelling against you and killing you dead. This tastes pretty darn good to me.”

“See! Be grateful you got food.” Cookie grumbled as he slapped a spoonful of thin watery gravy onto Braxton’s plate.

“Give me another one, Cookie. I’m a big man.” Braxton said with a smile and Cookie happily did just that.

Brody finished his meal and then walked toward the bunkhouse. The other men were staying up and playing poker by lantern light in the barn but Brody was tired and he wanted to get plenty of rest because tomorrow would be spent riding through the hills and checking on the herd. He stopped on his way and stared up at the big house, wondering what rich folk did before bed.

“You ain’t thinking about Elizabeth are you?” Braxton asked walking up behind him. Brody shook his head and looked the big man in the eye.

“No, sure wasn’t.” he replied honestly.

“Let me give you a warning about Elizabeth…” Braxton started but Brody pulled a rolled cigarette from his shirt pocket and shook his head as he dug for the box of matches in his pants pocket.

“That’s not necessary. I ain’t got no interest in her or any other woman. I get all I need from a woman from the whores in town.” Braxton chuckled and shook his head.

“Even so, I’m gonna warn ya.” Braxton looked off into the dark twilight, his face was worn from years in the sun and his brown eyes were permanently set in a tight squint. “She’s nothing for you to be even thinking about. There’s been a few men over the last couple of years since she outgrew her knobby knees and boyish body , that have fallen for her, broken the rules and found themselves out on their asses and out of a job. This is a good damn job and not worth losing over her. She don’t want a man for nothing other than a good time and she’ll chew you up and spit you right back out. Remember that kid.” Brody pulled a match from the pack, struck it against his cheek and lit his cigarette which glowed orange in the building darkness.

“You sure you should be talking about the bosses daughter like that?” he asked with amusement. Braxton chuckled and stuck a bit of tobacco in his lip.

“The truth is the truth, no matter who it’s about.” he said. “Make sure you don’t call her the bosses daughter to her face because as far as she’s concerned she’s your boss too.”

“Ain’t no painted up, silk wearing lady gonna tell me what to do. If that’s part of this job then I’ll quit myself.” Braxton laughed with loud amusement.

“We’ll see if you’re still singing the same tune tomorrow.”

“I don’t sing. And when I say something you can damn well believe that I mean it.” Brody replied blowing smoke rings up at the night sky.

“All right kid. Well I’m gonna go play some poker. You coming?”

“Naw, I’m gonna get some rest.” Brody replied and Braxton walked off toward the barn. Brody gave one last look at the house and snorted as he went into the bunkhouse.

Wasn’t no painted lady gonna make him fall head over heals and make a fool of himself. This was a good damn job, the pay was great and the men were alright to work with. Grant could have the bosses daughter, Brody wasn’t about to get caught in her web.

Chapter Three

Elizabeth pulled on her trousers and her white blouse the next morning. She pulled on her black, worn out, mud covered boots. She wrapped the braid in her hair around her head and hid it beneath her sweat stained brown hat.

She walked down the hall and met her pa in the living room.

“What are you doing?” he demanded when he saw her outfit.

“Going to work.” she replied matter of factly.

“Grant is on his way here! I’m expecting him any time.”

“Well I guess Mr. Foster will see who I really am today then won’t he?” Ernest grumbled under his breath.

“You have to be difficult don’t you?” he demanded and then he began to cough. The coughing lasted several long moments and Elizabeth went to him and rubbed his back hoping to calm him. He was gasping and breathing heavily once the cough subsided and he looked suddenly weak and tired. Elizabeth led him over to the couch and forced him to sit down.

“Rest pa. I’m gonna head into town and get the doc.” she said as she grabbed her gun belt and pistol from the hook by the door and hooked it around her waist.

“I’m fine.” Ernest said stubbornly. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and looked at Anita who was just walking into the living room.

“He stays on this couch until I get back with the doc.” she said and Anita nodded.

“Okay.” she said and she set her watchful gaze on Ernest who grumbled and slouched down like an angry child.

“Take one of the men with you.” he called as Elizabeth started out the door. “It’s not safe to go alone.”

888

Brody went into the barn to saddle a horse for the ride. The other hands that were checking cattle had already left out. Brody was running late because he’d worked with the mare he’d been trying to tame for a few hours this morning.

He stopped dead in his tracks, his cigarette hanging off his lip when he saw the person saddling a mare in the center of the barn. The person had their back to him and was wearing pants, a work shirt, boots and a hat but those shapely hips and that tight curved ass left no doubts in his mind that this was a woman.

Brody stared for several minutes longer then was proper, but any red blooded man would have stared at a sight like that. Was she a ranch hand or was she some kind of sexy little thief? He didn’t know but he planned to find out.

888

Elizabeth was just finishing up, hooking the saddle to the young mare named Chocolate, when the smell of tobacco smoke came to her nostrils. She turned quickly and then nearly gasped out loud at the sight of the tall man who was standing about a foot away from her with an amused, cocky grin on his rugged, stubble covered face.

He was tall, easily six and a half feet and he was clearly strong and lean beneath his black work shirt and trousers. He had a gun belt slung low on his lean hips and chaps on his long legs. His sweaty shirt hugged close to his flat stomach and his broad chest emphasizing the tight muscles that covered both.

His face was all hard, rugged lines and shapes. His nose was long and straight, his cheekbones were high and clearly defined. A pale scar went across the tan skin of his cheek, causing a break in the stubbly beard he was growing. His eyes were deep green, darker then emeralds and small lines creased in their corners from years spent squinting into the sunlight. His brown hair was longer then most men’s and hung to his shoulders beneath his sweat stained black hat.

“Who the hell are you?” she snapped once she found her voice. The man took the cigarette from his mouth and licked his firm lips.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked, his voice was strong and deep and it caused a wave of awareness to wash over her. She was suddenly all to aware that she was a woman and he was a man. A very dirty, sweaty, masculine man. This awareness made her angry. She was not the type of woman to swoon at the sight of any man.

Elizabeth rose to her full height which was still a good foot shorter than him, squared her shoulders and glared at him.

“I am Elizabeth McCready and my pa owns this ranch. Who the hell are you?” the man’s eyes widened and he looked her up and down, from her head to her toes. She noticed that his eyes paused at the space between her thighs and then again at her chest where her small breasts were pressed tight against her shirt, which had gotten twisted up when she’d been saddling Chocolate.

“Names Brody Atkinson, ma’am.” she noticed that he sneered when he said the last word. “Your pa hired me.” Elizabeth thought back to the day before and realized that this was the man she had seen trying, and failing, to break the mare yesterday.

“My pa must be getting desperate for hands these days if he’s hiring men who can’t even break a horse without eating dirt.” She saw anger flash in those green eyes and he snorted as he took another draw off his cigarette.

“I can break a beast just fine.” he assured her before blowing his smoke into her face. The acidic smell of the tobacco clogged her nostrils and burned her eyes and throat but she refused to let him know that as she kept her face expressionless and stared at him. She wondered why he acted so hostile toward her when he didn’t even know her but there was no way she’d let a hand treat her as if he was the boss. It was time he learned it was the other way around.

“Well since you don’t seem to be busy you can come into town with me.” she said matter of factly. Brody raised his boot and stuck his cigerette against the sole to kill the flame as he shook his head.

“Nope. I ain’t some damn errand boy, here to watch after some helpless woman. I’ve gotta get out….” His words were cut off instantly when Elizabeth pulled her pistol and had it pressed against the bottom of his chin before he had time to blink.

“I can assure you that I am not helpless. I go through this every time there is a new hand. You men come in here thinking that just because I’m a woman you can boss me around and disrespect me and each time I am forced to teach you men the truth. I am plenty capable of taking care of myself….” Elizabeth’s rant was cut off just as abruptly as Brody’s had been when he grabbed her by the arm that held the pistol, spun her around and pulled her back into his chest while holding her completely immobile in his iron grasp.

She fought against him but it was useless, his body was hard, solid muscle and she couldn’t move.

“You shouldn’t go pullin’ your gun on a man, Miss McCready, unless you’re damn ready to use it.” he growled.

Brody enjoyed how soft she felt against his body. During the war he’d seen some harsh things. He’d seen families ripped apart. He’d seen kids shot dead, women raped and left mutilated. Men starving to death and killing each other over pieces of rock hard jerky. Because of all of that harshness, he never got tired of the way a soft woman felt in his arms.

This particular woman was off limits though. Not only was she the bosses daughter but she was clearly one of those uppity women who thought they were just as good as any man. He thought of Braxton’s warning the night before and smiled. There was no way in hell he’d fall into any trap that this woman laid. He was going to let her know that he wasn’t just some damn puppy she could lead around by the nose.

“Let me go.” she hissed. “I’ll make sure you’re fired before the day is out.”

“You want me to tell your pa that you’re out in the barn pulling guns on men who ain’t done a damn thing? I’m sure he wouldn’t be none to pleased about that.” He had her there. Her pa would probably pull of his belt and whip her soundly if he knew she’d pulled her gun on Brody. Ernest McCready knew the necessity of weapons in 1870 Texas, but he didn’t like the fact that his daughter carried and knew how to use one.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot Mr. Atkinson.” Elizabeth said, doing her best to sound agreeable despite the fact that she was seething with rage at being manhandled and her body was on fire from being pressed against his. She wasn’t the kind of woman to give in to such female reactions so she did her best to ignore the fire his touch was creating.

“That’s better.” Brody said. He released her and she took several big steps away from him before turning to face him and sticking her gun back in its holster.

“My name is Elizabeth.” she said, deciding that to start over they needed new introductions.

“Brody.” he replied, tipping his hat. She hated how smug he looked. Clearly proud of what he considered a victory over the bosses daughter.

“Brody, saddle a horse. I have to go into town and my father wanted me to ask a hand to come with me. Since you’re the only one not busy, you get the job.”

“You’re mad ain’t ya? You’re mad that you gotta get somebody to go with ya.” Her green eyes narrowed to slits and her angelic looking face suddenly looked ready to kill.

“Saddle a horse Brody.” she snapped and she grabbed Chocolate’s reigns and led her quickly from the barn. Brody let out a low whistle once she was gone and shook his head. She was definitely tempting to look at but he’d done been told about the hands off rule and warned about her ways by Braxton.

“Man o man. I wish I’d a been right about the ugly.. Woulda made working for the woman a little bit easier.” he said as he went about saddling a grey appaloosa.

888

“Oh mercy! It’s Grant.” Elizabeth mumbled, breaking the silence that had been over her and Brody since leaving the ranch.

“Good, your boyfriend can take you on to town and I can go back to work.”

“No.” she said looking ahead on the road at Grant in his buckboard coming toward them.

“Why not?”

“That is none of your concern.” Elizabeth snapped and Brody nodded and folded his arms over his legs as he let the reigns drape loosely. Brody watched in amazement as they walked right past Grant and he gave no indication that he recognized Elizabeth in her mens clothes and big hat.

“Brody. Ma’am.” he said politely as he tipped his derby hat and then rode on his way. Elizabeth breathed an audible sigh of relief.

“Figured you’d be happy to see him.” Brody said as he squinted into the sunlight.

“No.” Elizabeth replied sounding much less like an ice princess or an evil slave driver and more like a confused and lost woman. A dangerous sound for any man.

“Sounds like there some meat left on that bone.” he said matter of factly.

“Excuse me?”

“Sounds like there’s more to the story.” Elizabeth straightened her spine and shook her head.

“Like I said before, it’s nothing to concern yourself about. You’re just coming with me to town cuz my pa don’t trust me out here on my own.”

“You sure don’t talk like a proper lady.” Brody said. He wasn’t sure why he was trying to make conversation with her. He assumed the sun had fried his brain and the half hour they’d been on horseback in silence was getting to him.

“I don’t remember telling you that I was a proper lady.” Elizabeth replied and she urged Chocolate a little faster down the trail. Eager to get to town and away from the arrogant man with the sharp green eyes.

888

Brody waited outside the doctors office in town, smoking his cigarette and giving a small grin to the whores who were waving at him from the balcony of the small blue whorehouse. He’d only been in town a week before getting his job at McCready’s ranch but it was long enough for all the women to know him by name.

He tapped his foot and looked over the swinging doors of the doctors office impatiently. He didn’t like playing babysitter to the bosses daughter. Arrogant little pain in the ass is all she was. Pretty little arrogant pain in the ass.

“Please, Doctor Montgomery, come out and check on him. There has to be something you can do.” Elizabeth’s voice was desperate and sad and for reasons he knew nothing about, it tugged at his heartstrings. Hell he hadn’t been aware that he had heartstrings.

“Elizabeth, There is nothing I can do for him. His lungs will continue to get worse and eventually give out on him. He could buy himself more time by taking it easy and bed rest but nothing is going to save him.”

“That’s just not good enough!” Elizabeth exclaimed angrily.

“I’m sorry. It’s just the way it is.” Brody moved several steps away from the door to act as if he hadn’t overheard their conversation when he heard Elizabeth’s boots stomping toward the doors. She swung them open, slamming them loudly against the wall and then stormed of the porch steps toward their waiting horses.

Brody shook his head, killed his cigarette against the bottom of his boot and stuck it behind his ear, before following after her slowly. Brody never rushed. His policy in life was that the more you rush the more behind you get. His steps and his actions in life were always controlled, confident and steady.

A part of him wanted to ask her if she was okay as he jumped on his horse and began to follow after her. She was rigid in the saddle and her jaw was set in a stubborn line, refusing to show any emotion. But then a bigger part of him decided that it really wasn’t any of his business whether or not she was okay. His only job was to get her home in one piece

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Elizabeth had forgotten all about Grant being at the house when she and Brody rode back into the ranch. She jumped from Chocolate and gave Brody orders to put the mare away and the cowboy had grumbled under his breath but he hadn't argued. It wasn't until Elizabeth walked into the house and saw Grant sitting in the parlor with her pa drinking scotch and talking like a couple of old friends, that she remembered passing the man.  

"Pa, what are you doing? You were supposed to sit on the couch until I got back!" Elizabeth scolded. Both men turned to look at her, her pa with a guilty grin and Grant with a look of shock.  

"Grant stopped by and I couldn't make the man sit alone in the parlor," Ernest replied.  

"Miss Elizabeth, I apologize, I passed you on the way to town and didn't recognize you. You look... uh... different today." His eyes widened when they fell on the gun on her hip.  

"Yes, this is what I normally wear around the ranch. Those fancy dresses get in the way when you're wrangling steers," she replied, not bothering to hide her accent with fancy dialect. She looked back at her pa, "The doc was busy," she lied. "He said he might ride out later in the week."  

"I don't need that old doc. I'm dying, plain and simple, and all he ever says is, rest, rest, rest. Hell, I'll have plenty of time for that once I'm dead."  

Elizabeth winced at the certainty in his tone and he rose to his feet, as did Grant, "I have to be getting out in the field and checking on the cattle. You and Grant should spend some time together, get to know each other a little." he said with a twinkle in his eyes. Then he looked at Grant and his blue eyes turned harder, "Anita will be here of course," he warned.  

 Grant nodded quickly, "Of course sir."  

"But pa, I've got work to do," Elizabeth cut in.  

Ernest shook his head as he walked toward the door. He stopped before walking out, "You can wait until later. Mr. Foster came a long way to get to know you, so treat him as well as you would any guest."  

Elizabeth could see the hard, no nonsense look in her fathers eyes and she knew that if she disobeyed he would be angry, "Yes, pa," she replied and she reached up and pulled off her hat, letting her long braid fall down her back. She unhooked the gun belt from her hips and hung it by the door.  She pressed a kiss to her father's weathered cheek before he walked out and then  walked back over to the table.  

 Elizabeth's gaze landed on the half empty bottle of scotch on the table, "Mr. Foster, would you like to keep drinking your scotch this early or maybe you like to have Anita bring us some tea?"   

Grant cleared his throat and nodded, "Tea would be fine, Miss Elizabeth. You don't mind if call you Elizabeth do you?"  

Elizabeth wanted to tell him that yes, she minded and he better not call her Elizabeth but then she remembered the desperate look on her fathers face the night before, and she remembered Anita's words.  Anita had been right. She owed it to her father to at least give Grant a chance.  

"That would be fine," she replied, plastering a kind, charming smile on her face. 	

Anita came into the room carrying a pot of tea and Grant pulled out a chair for Elizabeth to sit down. Elizabeth bristled at having a man assume she needed him to pull out her chair but she bit back her smart retort and sat down.  

"Thank you for the tea, ma'am," Grant flashed Anita a charming smile that was so white it seemed to sparkle. Anita blushed and stuttered as she smiled and backed out of the room.  

Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she went about pouring them both a cup of tea. Why did some women let themselves become stuttering piles of nerves around attractive men? There was no way Elizabeth would ever let herself fall apart like that.  

"I was not aware that you worked the ranch, Miss Elizabeth."  

"I've been working the ranch since I learned to walk, Mr. Foster. I know it inside and out, forward and backward. I'll be working this ranch until the day I die."  

Grant nodded but inside he knew she was wrong. Once he was her husband she wouldn't wear these ridiculous clothes anymore and she wouldn't be out getting her hands dirty and sweating with the men. And that gun? That gun would never again touch her hands!  

"I'm interested to learn about the workings of a ranch," Grant replied. "I would say you are just the person to teach me."  

Elizabeth was thankful that the topic of conversation was on something she was comfortable talking about. The ranch was her life.  

---

Brody was just getting ready to ride out into the hills when Ernest McCready rode up beside him, "I'll ride out with you Brody." Brody nodded and the two men started out.  

"I take it you took Elizabeth into town this morning?" Ernest asked after a long silence.  

Brody nodded again, "That's right sir."   

Ernest stared off at the horizon for several moments and Brody could hear the way his lungs were wheezing with every breath the old man took.  

"You need to know that my daughter is off limits to the ranch hands." 	Brody lit a cigarette and took a long draw, "I've heard."  

Ernest wondered where he'd heard but didn't ask. Whatever the ranch hands talked about in the privacy of their bunkhouse was their own business.  

The men continued on in silence and finally met with the other hands, "How do the cattle seem Braxton?"  Ernest asked as they rode up to the giant man.  

"Pretty good, sir. We have a few missing but I sent Frank and Thomas out to find them. I'm sure they just wandered away from the main herd."  

"Good. Good," Ernest said and then he wandered down toward the herd leaving Braxton and Brody standing there alone.  

"He's a sick man," Braxton sighed. Brody nodded but said nothing. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's gone before the month is out. Too bad that daughter of his won't be taking over the ranch."  

Brody raised a brow but again said nothing. This wasn't any of his business and quite frankly he wasn't sure he cared much for Braxton anymore. The man seemed to like to talk about things he had no business talking about.  

"Her pa won't leave the ranch to her if she unmarried 'cause he's worried someone will come along and take advantage of his little girl. She don't know that of course. That's why he's pushing her so hard to get married to a good man."  

Brody noticed that Braxton seemed bitter as he said the last words and suddenly he thought maybe he understood. Braxton wanted to marry Elizabeth. Whether that was because he cared about the woman or just because he wanted the ranch, Brody didn't know and didn't care. That would also explain why had made Elizabeth sound bad in order to keep Brody away from her. Brody didn't have much for a man that would lie about a woman in order to get what he wanted. Brody could tell good enough that Elizabeth wasn't a whore that chewed men up and spit them out the way Braxton had made her seem. Hell she'd basically turned into a block of ice when he'd grabbed her in that barn.  

"Nice talking to ya Braxton," Brody lied and then he urged his horse down the hill to join the other men.  

Braxton watched the man go and shook his head. He had heard about Brody taking Elizabeth into town and Braxton knew that if there was ever a cowboy that could steal Elizabeth's heart it would be one like Brody. Good thing Brody didn't seem to have any interest in her. Braxton had his plan all worked out.  

At first he had hoped he'd be able to marry Elizabeth himself and gain the ranch that way. Elizabeth might be thirty years younger than him but that just meant she could be trained and she was prettier then any woman he'd seen before, but Ernest had quickly made it clear that no ranch hand would ever marry his daughter. So Braxton began working on Ernest. He had been working at this ranch for many years and was already friends with the old man but he began to make the friendship deeper, building more and more trust, and it had worked.  

Ernest had already let him know that if he died before Elizabeth married, Braxton would inherit the ranch. Of course Braxton had promised to let Elizabeth run the ranch, but once the old man was dead, Braxton would no longer have to worry about keeping his promise.  Elizabeth would never agree to marry a man like Grant, and Ernest was heading faster and faster toward deaths door with every breath he took, so Braxton was confident that very soon this ranch would be his.  

Of course Elizabeth had no idea of any of this. Ernest hadn't told her yet because he wanted her to pick her husband without the thought of losing the ranch hanging over her head. Braxton smiled and then urged his horse forward to join everyone else at the bottom of the hill.  

---

Ernest was wheezing heavily when he finally finished unsaddling his horse and Brody had insisted that the man go relax while he put the horse away. Ernest walked out of the barn and then leaned on the door frame for support. He turned his head toward the corral when his daughter's laughter caught his ear.  

He couldn't help but shake his head and smile when he saw her sitting a top the mare that Brody had been trying so hard to break. Clearly the mare was broken and Elizabeth was leading it around and around the corral, while Grant watched on.  

"I must say, Elizabeth, that was quite a good show," Grant declared as he clapped.  

"Thank you, Mr. Foster," Elizabeth replied, high on adrenaline and feeling generous toward him. Truthfully over the last few hours she had learned that she could tolerate him quite well. Sure he was a city man and had no clue how to go about working a ranch but he seemed eager to learn and that earned him some points in her book.   

"What the hell are you doing?" Brody demanded as he stormed from the barn and up to the corral. "I was breaking that horse!"  

Ernest's eyes widened but he decided to leave this situation up to Elizabeth, Brody and Grant to handle.  

"You failed at breaking her, Brody, so I took over."  

"Do you know this man well enough to be calling  him by his first name?" Grant asked as he rose to his full height, which was still a few inches shorter than Brody, and did his best to look intimidating.  

"I don't have to know him to call him by his first name. He works for me," she replied haughtily and she saw Brody bristle. Strange how she could already read his emotions so easily after only spending a few short hours with him this morning.  

"Damn woman, why do you have to be such a...."  

"Watch what you say cowpoke." Grant warned. He wasn't a fighting man but he wanted this ranch and he knew he had to defend his future wife's honor if he was going to get it.  

"Grant, I don't need you to defend me. I'm quite capable of dealing with Brody," Elizabeth said, sitting ram rod straight in the saddle and looking down her nose at both men.  

Grant, clean and polished. Looking sophisticated, cultured and soft.  

Brody, dirty and wild. Looking  untamed, rugged and hard.  

"Brody," Elizabeth said, forcing her eyes to look into his own, which looked sharp enough to cut straight through her, "Why don't you go clean the stalls in the cow barn. I'm sure the heifers would appreciate it."   

Brody's posture was rigid as he tipped his hat, "Yes ma'am," he growled in a voice that was cold and angry and then he turned on his heel and walked toward the cattle barn. His steps long, confident and just as arrogant as he was.  

Elizabeth jumped from the mare and then hopped over the fence and walked up to Grant, "You're quite a woman, Miss Elizabeth," he said with a wide grin.  

"Why thank you, Grant." she replied smiling back. Out of all the men her pa had tried to set her up with, he certainly seemed the nicest. Of course that didn't mean she was going to marry the man.  

She wanted to marry a man that made her feel heat and intensity when they met each others gaze. A man whose very touch would turn her blood to fire and a man who she could spend hours working with, pounding fences and running cattle without ever having to say a word to one another. That was the kind of husband she wanted.  

"I'm afraid I have to be getting to town, Miss Elizabeth, but I greatly enjoyed spending these last few hours with you and I pray that you will let me come back and spend some more time with you tomorrow? I thought that perhaps I could ride out, pick you up in my buggy and we could ride into town together. Perhaps go to lunch?"

"Actually..." Elizabeth started to refuse but then she saw her father's watchful gaze and sighed, "Yes. That'd be nice."

 Grant grabbed her hand in his and then pressed his lips to her knuckles. His lips were cold and wet and while they didn't feel altogether unpleasant, she felt no fire, no heat, no intensity.

"Until tomorrow then," he whispered, his blue eyes gazing deep into hers and nearly making her go cross-eyed as she looked down at him.  

"Tomorrow," she replied. He straightened and she watched him walk away and climb back in his buggy. His polished shoes shone in the sunlight as he headed down the road.  

"Thank you for giving him a chance," Ernest said walking up to his daughter.  

"Pa, I'm not marrying him," she replied with exasperation.  

"We'll see," Ernest countered and then he put his hand to his chest as his wheezing grew louder.  

"Pa, are you okay?" Elizabeth asked as she grabbed his arm. He shook his head as his face turned a dark purple. Panic set in when she realized that her father couldn't breathe. She patted his back and screamed for help.  

She hadn't realized anyone was coming and then suddenly Brody was there. He moved her out of the way, grabbed Ernest's arm and swatted him several times on the back so hard that the sound vibrated through the air.  

Ernest gasped as air entered his lungs and he collapsed against Brody's chest.  

"Pa?" Elizabeth asked warily.

 Brody looked down at her and saw how pale and scared she was and for the first time in his life he found himself wanting to comfort someone else, "He'll be okay, Miss McCready. We just need to get him in to lay down."

 Brody was still mad that she had broken the mare he'd been working on and even madder that she'd flexed her muscle and sent him to clean the cattle barn, but there was something about seeing this clearly strong and stubborn woman looking scared to death, that brought out the gentler side of him.... Not that the gentler side was much different than the hard side.  

"Come on then, you can lay him in the bed," Elizabeth replied as she took off her hat and wrung it nervously in her hands. It was clear that Ernest wanted to argue but was feeling too weak so instead he let Brody help him into the house. Brody followed Elizabeth up the stairs to Ernest's bedroom and laid him down.  

"Rest pa," Elizabeth whispered gently. She pressed a kiss to the old man's weathered cheek and then stepped out into the hallway, closing the door.  

"Chamomile tea, ma'am," Brody said.  

Elizabeth shook her head to snap herself out of her fear and looked at him. He was standing with a wide legged stance, his thumbs through his belt loops and that same cool, confident look on his face, only now she could see something that resembled concern in his green eyes.  

"Huh?" she asked.  

"During the war, ma'am, there were some men with coughs like that. The only thing that gave them any peace was Chamomile tea."  

"Thank you, Brody," Elizabeth replied. Their eyes locked together and Elizabeth felt as if someone had just lit a match beneath her. Her entire body was heating at the intensity in his gaze. She wondered if he felt the same thing. His hard face was unreadable as he stared down at her.  

Brody cleared his throat and took a step away from her, "I'll be getting back to work now."

 Elizabeth found herself unable to reply and simply watched him turn and walk away. What was it about Brody Atkinson that had her so confused and acting so much like a..... a woman. He was arrogant, cocky, rude and anti-social. He had manhandled her in the barn, though honestly he could have been worse. She 

had pulled a gun on him and stuck it to his face.

She heard her father coughing and it broke through her thoughts. She had more important things to worry about right now then Brody and her irritating reaction to him.  

"Anita!" she called as she walked down the stairs. "Anita, do we have any chamomile?"

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

"Thank you for accompanying me today," Grant said as he and Elizabeth rode toward town in Grant's small buckboard.  

"Thank you for inviting me," Elizabeth replied. She had given in to her father's demands that morning and had worn a skirt and a feminine green blouse. She had left her hat at home and had her hair pulled back in a bun and covered by a small white bonnet.  Her pa hadn't wanted her to wear her pistol but Elizabeth knew better then to go without it. Anything could happen on these uncivilized trails.  

"You look very lovely today. That blouse make your green eyes shine."  

Elizabeth wanted to laugh at the compliment but smiled instead, "Thank you."  

"That new hand, Brody, how is working out?" Grant asked suddenly and Elizabeth frowned.  

"Why do you ask?"  

"He just seemed like a man who didn't like taking orders when your father and I brought him to the ranch."  

Elizabeth thought back to Brody's arrogance the day before and then to the look of concern he'd given her that evening. He was a puzzle she was afraid to look too closely at for fear the edges would be razor sharp and cut her to pieces.

"Most men don't like having a woman give them orders," she acknowledged in response to Grant's comment. "Sometimes I feel like I have to be ten times meaner and harder than any man would have to be in order to get them to listen. I see the way my father is able to laugh and joke with the hands and I wish I could have that, but the second they start to see me softening, they all start trying to push me around. I have to be a slave driving, ice queen at all times and honestly, it's tiring as hell."

"That will only get worse once your father passes and you are running the ranch yourself," Grant noted, deciding to let the foul language go for now. He could always teach her better than to speak that way once they were married.  

"No, it will get better. I can handpick the ranch hands myself. I can hire and fire men at will and everyone will know better than to try to overrule or undermine me."  

"Well just so you know, Miss Elizabeth, you never have to be what you are not when you are with me. With me, you can let your guard down and just be Elizabeth,"  Grant felt like he'd won a victory when the first true smile he'd seen her have toward him, graced her beautiful face. He knew how to get what he wanted.  

Elizabeth sighed, "I think that sounds nice." Maybe she hadn't been fair with Grant. It wasn't his fault that she was fighting a constant battle with her father over marriage or that she was a high strung nervous wreck because of her fathers illness. She needed to enjoy her day out with him today and really get to know the man. After all, he hadn't spoken a single word about marriage yet and didn't seem to want to rush her.   

"So, you seem to know a lot of things about livestock and horses, tell me, who has better cattle? McCready ranch or the Triple L whose land borders yours to the west?" he asked and Elizabeth could hear a teasing tone in his voice and she sat up straight and raised a brow.  

"The McCready ranch of course. Those Triple L cows aren't fit to feed to the coyotes."   

Grant laughed, she never needed to know it was a fake laugh, and he shook his head, "You're something else, Miss Elizabeth. Nothing at all what I was expecting." Elizabeth found herself laughing as well, which was a big deal for her since she didn't usually allow herself to relax enough to laugh.  

"You are a pleasant surprise as well Mr. Foster."  

"Grant, please."  

Elizabeth smiled, "Grant."  

The two of them shared easy conversation all the way to town and over lunch. Grant was careful to treat her as an equal, (though it killed him to do so), because he could tell that was important to her and necessary if he stood any chance of getting her to marry him.  

"Lunch was good," Elizabeth said as she pushed her empty plate away.  

"I can tell, you ate it all," Grant teased.  

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, "Of course I did. I was hungry. I ain't one of those women that pick at a head of lettuce and claim they're full."  

"I've tasted better food. You should taste some of the food the big restaurants serve back east."  

"Compared to what Cookie serves, Fannie's diner is gourmet," Elizabeth replied, smiling at Fannie as she came to them with the bill. 	Fannie ran her hand over her graying brown hair and smiled, revealing deep crows feet around her good natured eyes and laugh lines around her mouth, "Well thank you, Elizabeth. I'll take that as a compliment," she said patting the young woman on the back. "How is your father doing, dear?"

"Not any better, Fannie, but thanks for asking," Elizabeth replied as sadness filled her eyes. Fannie frowned. She knew how tough Elizabeth always tried to act but she also knew just how scared the poor girl was right now. She had lost her mother as a baby to fever and now her father was dying as his lungs continued to shut down.  

"God has his plans for all of us, sweetie." Fannie said. "Here take this to your pa, it might make him feel better." Elizabeth took the pie from Fannie, wrapped in a bright red and white checked handkerchief, and smiled.  

"Apple?" she asked as she pressed her nose to the pie and breathed in the cinnamon scent.  

"Yep." Fannie replied, taking the money from Grant's outstretched hand.   

"He'll love this. Your apple pies have always been his favorite," Elizabeth said.   

Fannie smiled proudly, "And I always loved watching him take a bite of one. His eyes would roll back and he'd look like he was in heaven." Fannie seemed to be lost in memories for a moment and then she smiled and shook her head. "Well I gotta get back to work. You two have a nice day."  

Grant rose and helped Elizabeth from her chair, though she still hated being treated as if she needed his help in and out of chairs. He walked her out to the buckboard and she jumped on before he could offer his assistance. 	As he climbed up and took the reigns he asked, "Is your father doing as bad as he says?"  

"Yes," Elizabeth replied quickly, her throat tightening. "The doctor won't even come out and see him because he says it's a waste of time."  

"I'm sorry," Grant replied, though he wasn't sorry at all. He only hoped he had enough time to make the woman fall for him before the old man died, that way the ranch would be his right away. Judging by how Elizabeth had come out of her shell today and the way she had been smiling at him all day, he knew he was getting pretty close to his goal.  

---

Brody took the newly broken black mare through her paces and he had to admit that Elizabeth had done a good job breaking her. The mare was docile and compliant and did everything he asked her to.  

"What was your problem, girl? You wouldn't listen to me but she spends an hour with you and suddenly you're eating out of hands," he said as he held out a handful of oats and she ate them eagerly.  

"That woman is one of the most confusing people I've ever met," Brody continued, "I don't usually worry about folk. I worry about myself and that's it, but there's something about her that has me wanting to know more." He thought about how arrogant and cold she'd been in the barn when she'd pulled her gun on him but then just hours later she'd seemed lost and broken when talking to the doc about her father. Then she'd been laughing and smiling,(both of which had affected him more then he cared to admit), as she had broken the horse.  

Outside her father's room the night before Brody had been more then tempted to break the rules and wrap his arms around her, cover her body with his, chase away all those fears on her face and kiss her senseless. His own thoughts had shocked him, given how hard he'd worked since the age of sixteen to never care about anyone. People didn't stay around forever and caring about them only guaranteed that you'd be hurt.  

"What are you thinking about so hard, kid?" Braxton asked in his booming voice as he walked over to him.  

Brody shook his head to clear his thoughts, "I try not to ever think, Braxton. It makes my head hurt." 	

"Elizabeth sure put you in your place yesterday didn't she?" Braxton asked with a chuckle. "Clean the heifers poop, she said, and that's just what you did."  

"Course I did," Brody replied, irritation creeping into his voice. He 

really didn’t like Braxton. There was something about the man that rubbed him the wrong way. “She’s the boss, remember?”

"Thought you said there wasn't no painted up lady going to tell you what to do?" Braxton asked, crossing his arms over his oak tree sized chest. 	Brody shrugged as he grabbed the mares reigns and led her toward the barn. He could hear Braxton's boots behind him and he felt the familiar urge to pull his gun and kill the man. Since the war Brody had a problem with anyone walking behind him like that... It made him jumpy.  

"Clearly she ain't a painted lady. And any woman that could come and break this mare like it was nothing after I worked so hard and couldn't get her, is alright in my book."  

Braxton could hear the pride in Brody's voice and that wasn't what he wanted to hear, "Remember what I told you about her. She's a regular old man eater," Braxton warned.  

Brody fought the urge to turn and punch the man. Braxton had been here long before him and if he decked him, Brody would definitely be out of a job, "I remember what you said." he replied tightly.

 Braxton nodded and then turned and walked out of the barn leaving Brody alone once again with his thoughts. He needed to keep his distance from Elizabeth McCready. Not because he thought she was a regular old man eater, but because he was worried that that arrogant, confident, hot tempered, cowgirl was just the type of woman to make him forget about his plans to stay alone. She riled his temper with just a look, and heated his blood the same way.... Yes she was definitely dangerous.

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

"So you were in the war, Brody?" Thomas asked a week later as Brody, Thomas and Elizabeth were crouched down, pounding fences in the south pasture. Brody had been doing good at avoiding the woman until this morning when she'd shown up in the pasture to help with the fence repairs after a big storm had come through and damaged fences all over the ranch.  

"Yeah, I was in the war," Brody replied as his scarred and calloused hand pounded in a nail with just one swing of the hammer.  

"What side did you fight for? The north or the south?" Thomas asked with an eager smile. He'd been too young to serve in the war himself but he had wanted to. It had always seemed to him like an exciting and fun place to be.   

Brody shot an annoying glance at the other man before pulling a nail from between his lips to pound into the weathered pieces of wood, "South," he grunted.

"Let me guess, your family owned some big plantation and slaves? That would certainly explain how arrogantly you carry yourself all the time," Elizabeth cut in.  

Grant had been by every day since their lunch and she had grown fond of him. She saw him as a..... friend. There was no fire or heat or intensity between them and she wanted those things. She and her pa had gotten into a big fight this morning over the marriage and she had come to the south pasture to get away from him, hide from Grant whenever he came today, and burn off some steam with hard labor. The fact that Brody had been here to irritate had simply been a plus. She loved watching the man bristle whenever she told him what to do. It was clear he hated taking orders from a woman.  

"Actually, Miss McCready," Brody replied in a voice so calm and controlled it gave away none of the anger that was raging within him. The rage that always accompanied the memories of what had happened to his family that summer day nine years ago, in 1861. "My family was poor. We lived in little more than a shack in Virginia."  

Elizabeth shrugged and moved a little further down the fence with her nails and hammer, though making sure she stayed within hearing distance because she wanted to hear all she could about the war that had killed so many American men.

"So how many of those Yankee bastards did you get, Brody?" Thomas asked excitedly. Brody sank another nail deep in the wood, realizing that Thomas hadn't nailed a single one since starting the conversation, and sighed. He liked Thomas. The eighteen year old was a good boy and seemed to genuinely like life but right now he was getting on his last nerve. Brody didn't want to think about the darkest part of his twenty-five years of life.  

"Not enough, obviously. They won," he replied.   

Thomas laughed loudly and even Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh lightly. She was too busy nailing the boards to see Brody's sharp gaze land on her and his eyes narrow.  

"You're like a real tough guy, ain't ya?" Thomas asked with awe. "I mean you fought in the war and then you wandered from town to town, living out of saddlebags and off sheer grit and determination for five years afterward!" Brody just shrugged and moved on down the line of the fences.  

"How old are you, Brody?" Elizabeth asked.

"Twenty-five, Miss McCready." Brody replied without looking at her. He didn't want to admit the way her laughter made his heart beat just a little faster. She was the most infuriating woman he'd ever met and all he wanted was to get to know her better.  

"When did you enlist?" she asked, doing the math in her head. Twenty-five minus nine was sixteen, so she knew he must have enlisted somewhere in the middle of the four year war.  

"The summer of '61."  

"But you would have only been sixteen!" she exclaimed as she lowered her hammer and stared at him. He looked over at her and as always his eyes on her caused her to feel suddenly overheated. Even hotter than she had already been in the hot Texas sun.  

"You can do math," he replied dryly, preferring to keep her bristly rather than awestruck and interested.  

"I'm much smarter then you, I'm sure," she said, rushing to defend herself in front of Thomas. "I got every year of schooling available."  

"Good for you, Miss McCready. I was too busy plowin' fields and then that turned into too busy shootin' people, to worry about school." 	Elizabeth suddenly felt guilty that she had criticized him. She was worried about her father, irritated at her father's persistence that she get a husband, and annoyed by Grant's constant presence, but none of those things were Brody's fault. She realized in that moment that she had been taking all of her negative emotions out on Brody since he'd arrived at the ranch because he had been an unfamiliar and easy target. Suddenly she felt very ashamed.  

"I'm sorry, Brody." she said softly.  

Brody stared at her in shock, having never heard that soft, kind voice directed at him, "Uh.. Don't worry about it Miss McCready." he replied after several long moments.  

Thomas looked at both of them, staring at each other so intently,  and grinned, "Would you two like to be alone?" he asked, elbowing Elizabeth in the arm playfully.  

Elizabeth cleared her throat and tore her eyes away from Brody', "Don't you have work to be doing?" she snapped, her ice queen persona firmly back in place. Thomas nodded quickly, grabbed his hammer and bag of nails and moved down the fence away from the two of them.  

"Why do you do that?" Brody asked once they were alone.

"Do what?"  

"Treat everybody like they are the dirt beneath your boot heel."  

Elizabeth's hammer stopped in mid air and she looked over at him with disbelief, "I don't do that!" she exclaimed.  

Brody pulled off his hat, wiped his sweaty brow with his white shirt sleeve and nodded as he laid his arm over his bent knees, "Yes you do. But I don't think you're really a bitch."  

"Excuse me?!" she exclaimed and Thomas snorted and then quickly moved further down the fence line to ensure he'd be out of the way of flying hammers.  

"It was a compliment," Brody replied with a shrug as he put his hat back on and turned his attention back to the fence.  

"That was the most backhanded compliment I've ever heard," she stated harshly.  

"Doesn't change the fact that I meant it as a compliment, Miss McCready," Brody wasn't the type to sugarcoat words or bother with sweet talk. He said what he thought and figured people could either take it or leave it, it was up to them.  

Elizabeth huffed and pounded the nail in, picturing Brody's arrogant face on its head, "Do you have any idea what I go through out here?" she demanded angrily. Brody shook his head but didn't look up from the fence beam he was nailing. "Every new man that comes thinks he can run over me just cuz I'm a woman! And then half of the hands that are already here say things to me that you'd expect to hear 'em say to a whore in town and think they can get away with it because I'm a woman! I have to be tougher and meaner than any man would have to be in order to show them they can't just treat me however they want to treat me!"

 Brody tried to open his mouth to speak but Elizabeth was on a roll now and had become an unstoppable, emotional, ranting woman, on a mission to make him see why she was the way she was.  

"Then there's my father! Don't get me wrong I love my father but he was always irritated because I wasn't born with a pecker 'tween my legs. I had to work hard and bust my backside just to earn his respect, and I finally did it! I know this ranch inside and out, backwards and forwards, but still men doubt me! Now he's pushing me to get married... Married! To Grant! Can you imagine me and that city boy? Why, he'd be home cleaning and taking care of the babies while I'm out running cattle....." Elizabeth stopped ranting as Brody's chuckling filled the air. Her first thought was how nice the sound was and her next was, why in the world was he laughing at her.  

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

 Brody tried to keep a straight face but found it impossible as his grin stayed firmly in place, "I ain't never heard a woman go off like that before, Miss McCready. Most women I've ever met have been prim and proper types. They would have sooner died then yell and cuss and they certainly wouldn't have said the word pecker."  

Elizabeth felt a blush color her cheeks as Thomas laughed further down the way. "Hush Thomas. She's your boss, dammit," Brody scolded.  

"I'm your boss too," Elizabeth replied without conviction.  

"Yes, ma'am," Brody said with a tip of his hat.  

Elizabeth squinted into the sun, "I know I'm not a proper lady and most men see me as less of a woman because of that."  

"Well I ain't most men, Miss McCready," he admitted, "'Course I've been told a time or two that I'm an arrogant son of a bitch, so maybe I'm not the best judge of character."  

Elizabeth found herself smiling and heat filled her again when he smiled broadly. It wasn't a smooth polished smile like Grant's. It was rugged and caused the scar on his cheek to look slightly more harsh. His teeth weren't perfect, they weren't the bright white that Grant's were and there was a small gap between the two front ones, but those eyes... Those green eyes lit up when he smiled and sent a womanly tremble down her spine.  

"I don't think you're a son of a bitch," Elizabeth replied as she quickly turned her attention back to the fence. She had never had feelings like this toward a man. The two hands she had kissed had merely been out of curiosity and the one man she had had sex with had not necessarily been by her own choice. He had been very forceful, plain and simple, and then had dared her to be a typical woman and say he forced her, so of course she hadn't.  

But Brody? Brody made her mad enough to spit one moment and hot enough to light the prairie itself on fire in the next. She found herself wondering what those calloused hands would feel like on her cheeks. What those firm lips would feel like pressed against hers. She knew it would never happen though. Her father had strict rules and she wouldn't do anything to make the man lose his job.  

A comfortable silence fell over the trio as they continued their work. Elizabeth and Brody developed a rhythm. She would hold the board, he would pound, and then as a unit they would move to the next board, keeping everything perfectly straight and in line. She was amazed that neither needed to say a word in order for the other to understand what they needed them to do.  

The day ended too soon as far as Elizabeth was concerned and soon they were heading back to the ranch. Thomas rode on ahead but Brody and Elizabeth stayed closer together as they led their horses at a slow pace through the long grasses.  

"We work well together," Elizabeth said, breaking the silence.  

Brody nodded as he lit a cigarette, "Yep."  

"Why aren't you married, Brody?" she asked.  

 Brody nearly choked on the smoke he'd just drawn into his lungs. After a moment of coughing he looked over at her as if she'd lost her mind, "What?"  

"You're handsome enough," she shrugged. 

‘Handsome enough to turn even me, the ice queen, into a pile of stuttering nerves’ she thought. “And you seem like a good man. Why aren’t you married?”

"Because, ma'am, the way I've always seen it women are good for three things. Cooking, complaining and sex. I can cook well enough to get by, my brother complains enough every time I get a letter from him to keep me good on that account and as far as sex goes that's what the whorehouse is for. I've got no need for a wife."  

 Elizabeth was suddenly angry and she remembered then why Brody irritated her so much, "Is that so?" she demanded.  

Brody nodded, "Yeah, that's so." he replied. He had to get this woman back to the bristling, irritated woman she had been before because this other side of her was one he could see himself falling for. Tough, outspoken, rough around the edges, beautiful, and hardworking as any man he'd ever met... Dangerous.  

"I guess I misjudged you then, Brody, maybe you are nothing but a son of a bitch," she said coldly and then she dug her heels into her mare's sides and the horse took off like a bullet across the prairie with Elizabeth holding her hat on her head and looking every bit the tough cowgirl that she was. Brody was left behind feeling like a horses ass and full of regrets that he didn't care to explore.

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Elizabeth was still fuming when she walked into the house a short time later. She was mad at herself for believing that Brody was different. For letting herself believe that Brody would be the type of man that would see her for what she really was, instead of just seeing her as a baby making, house cleaning, meal cooking woman.  

"Your father wants to speak with you, Elizabeth." Anita said when she heard Elizabeth stomp into the house.  

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, in no mood to continue her argument with her father, and unhooked her gun belt, "I would like to get cleaned up first," she replied, looking down at her sweat and dust stained clothes.  

Anita shook her head, "He said to send you up to his office the moment you came in."  

Elizabeth sighed with defeat and nodded, "Okay, Anita."  

"I'll have a warm bath waiting in your room when you get done speaking with him, sweetie."  

Elizabeth gave her a grateful smile and then slowly made her way up the stairs, toward a conversation she was sure she didn't want to have.  

She knocked on her father's office door and his once deep and strong, but now weak and raspy voice, said, "Come in."  

Elizabeth pushed the door open and saw him, sitting behind his desk in his black suit, looking over paperwork. The look on his face was a mixture of nervousness and determination when he looked up at her.  

"How did the fence repairs go today, dear?" he asked with a warm smile.

 Elizabeth pulled off her hat and sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the desk from where he sat, "Good. Though the south pasture will take at least another two or three days. I didn't check in with the other hands to ask how the other pastures looked."  

"That's good, dear, he mumbled clearly distracted as he looked down at his old, weathered hands lying on his desk. "I'm sorry about our argument this morning."  

"I am too pa," Elizabeth replied. "I don't like to fight with you."  

"Grant stopped by today and he was disappointed when you weren't here."

 Elizabeth took a deep breath and counted to three to help quell her temper, "Pa, I'm really getting tired of saying that I'm not gonna marry him."  

"I'm dying, Elizabeth, very soon, and I would like to know that my daughter is married and running the ranch that I worked so hard to build."  

"Pa, I don't have to be married to do that! I know this ranch like the back of my hand. I can run this ranch better than anyone else and you know it." she insisted, her hands jerking and motioning to emphasize her words. 	Ernest sighed, took a drink of the scotch from the glass on his desk and then leaned back in his chair, "The fact remains, my dear, that though you know a lot about this ranch and how to run it, you are still only a woman and men will take advantage of you."  

Elizabeth couldn't believe what she was hearing, "Only a woman?!" she demanded. "I can handle any man that might come along hoping to take advantage, pa. I don't need a man to protect me!"  

"With his money and reputation, Grant could give you security. You know as well as I do that even a ranch as large and successful as ours could be wiped out with one bad drought."

"Pa..."  

Ernest cut her off with a firm shake of his head, "I'm tired of you fighting me on this, Elizabeth. I have seen you and Grant together. He makes you smile and you seem to enjoy his company."  

"As a friend," she countered.

"Friendship is a good start. Many marriages have been based off of much less."

"Pa, I want a love like you and mama had. I want to marry a man who loves me so much that he can't picture his life without me and I want to love a man so much that my heart hurts with it. I don't want to just marry a man because it's convenient or will give me security. Don't you understand that?"  

Ernest sighed and the room was silent for a moment, only his harsh breathing filling the empty space, "You don't know what you're talking about, Elizabeth. You've been raised without ever having to worry about where your next meal is coming from or whether or not you'll have a roof over your head. Security is everything." He looked away from her and at the picture of her mother that was still hanging on his wall. "And you shouldn't put so much stock into what your mama and I had."   

This last statement had Elizabeth's argument against security dying on her tongue, "What do you mean?" she asked warily. Her pa had always told her stories about what a great love he and her mama had had. Full of passion, laughter and joy. Why did he suddenly look so sad?

"I've been lyin' to you all these years about your ma and me," he said hesitantly. "We never even met until our wedding day and though I grew fond of her over the two years we were together, there was never any love, dear. At least not the kind of love I told you was there. Dear, that kind of love only exists in those dime store novels."   

Elizabeth felt as if the rug had just been pulled out from under her. She had lived her whole life, wishing for the kind of love her parents had had, only to find out now that that love had been a lie.  

"Why would you tell me all those stories? About you and mama watching the sunset together on the hilltop every night? Or going on horse rides across the prairie and getting lost in each others arms at the river....."  

"Lies," he said looking ashamed. "Your mama hated the horses and we never watched the sunset together."  

"Why....?"  

"I don't know why I lied, Elizabeth. Maybe it was because I wanted you to have beautiful stories to think of about your mother or maybe it was because I was ashamed of the fact that I bought her and I didn't want you to think less of me."  

"You bought my mother?!" she demanded, rising to her feet and throwing her hat on his desk. "I'm nineteen years old pa! Why are you just now telling me this?"  

"Because!" he exclaimed, though his voice was too raspy for his yells to rival hers. "I didn't think that telling you those stories would hurt anything but I know better now. I've given you false hopes and expectations of a love that doesn't exist." Elizabeth shook her head with denial.  

"It does exist, pa...."  

"No it doesn't. It's just something that people make up for those novels to give other people false hopes. Don't you see?? You already have more than most with Grant. You have friendship, fondness and security. And you'll have a man here to help you run the ranch."  

"Pa, I don't need a husband to run the ranch. I can do it on my own." 	Ernest ruffled some papers on his desk and mumbled something so quietly that Elizabeth could not understand him.

"You'll have to speak up, pa. I can't hear you agreeing with me," she said, placing her hands on her hips and glaring at him. 	

"Unless you marry Grant the ranch will never be yours," he said, meeting her gaze with his own stubborn eyes.  

Elizabeth fell down hard in her chair as her legs gave way. She couldn't seem to form a coherent thought or draw a breath as she stared at the man across the table. The man she had idolized her whole life. The man who was now telling her that her ranch would not be hers unless she did as he wanted.  

"What.... What are you talking about?" she managed to gasp around the lump of dread in her throat.  

"My will states that unless you're married to a man I approve of when I die, the ranch will go to someone else. I've made arrangements with that someone that you still be around to stay on and run it but......"  

"HOW COULD YOU!?"  Elizabeth screamed loudly enough that even the ranch hands were sure to hear it outside. She rose to her feet and stared at her father with fire in her eyes. "This ranch is my life! I have busted my ass for my entire life to prove to you that I can run it! You have no right to take it away from me! I live and breathe this ranch! It should be mine!"

"Then marry Grant!" Ernest insisted, fighting back the tears that wanted to come to his eyes. He didn't like doing this to his daughter but he knew it was best for her.  

Elizabeth stared at her father. The man who hours ago she would have sworn would never hurt her and couldn't believe that he had just ripped her very heart from her chest. What would she have if she lost this ranch? Nothing. She wasn't made for life anywhere else and she would	 NOT live here and run this ranch if it belonged to anyone other than her or her father. Tears wanted to gather in her eyes but she forced them away. Cowgirls didn't cry. Her father had taught her that lesson very well.  

Ernest came around the desk and tried to take her hands in his but she jerked away, feeling suddenly cold and dead inside.  

"Elizabeth, this is best. Marry Grant."

 Elizabeth shook her head and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying, "I hate you." she hissed and then she turned on her boot heel and stormed from the room.  

Ernest sank back down in his chair and quickly drained the remaining scotch in his glass before looking up at the picture of Amelia hanging on the wall. He looked into her green eyes, that seemed to be calling him a fool even now, nineteen years after her death.  

"You know I loved you just like I always told the girl I did, honey, but I had to make her think those were lies or else she was going to throw her whole life away waiting on a dream that probably won't come true."  

He shook his head and looked down at his desk as a coughing fit him and left him gripping the desk for support. He prayed Elizabeth would see things his way soon or else the ranch was going to be Braxton's before too long.  

---

Elizabeth sunk down completely in the hot water and thought about drowning herself. Surely that would be a better fate than marrying a man she didn't love. She couldn't believe her pa had done this to her. She had thought the man loved her but how could he? No one who loved her would take away the one thing that she lived and breathed for. She rose back up as her lungs began to burn and saw Anita standing in the doorway watching her.  

"I was wondering if I was going to have to come in and jerk you up by that pretty hair," she said with a small half smile.  

"Did you hear all that a while ago?" Elizabeth asked, biting her lip.

"The whole ranch heard that," Anita replied gently as Elizabeth stood up and she wrapped her in a soft cotton robe. "Your pa is just trying to do what he thinks is best, sweetie."  

"Pa is trying to take away what should be mine. Everybody knows it should be mine. Ask Cookie or Frank or Thomas or Braxton! They'll all tell you that I'm more than capable of running this place. Hell even Brody might admit to it!"

 Elizabeth didn't see the guilty look that washed over Anita's face at the mention of Braxton. Elizabeth sat down on the edge of the bed and Anita sat beside her and started to run the brush through her long blond hair.  

"I know that," Anita whispered gently.   

"What should I do?" Elizabeth asked helplessly as she rubbed her face with her hands. "I don't love Grant but I do love this ranch and the thought of losing it just because I'm not married makes me want to die."  

"Do what your heart says," Anita replied with a small shrug. Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the older woman's vagueness. It wasn't like Anita to be vague about anything. She was always very straightforward. Elizabeth felt Anita's soft, padded arm close around her waist and she leaned into the older woman's warm, comforting embrace and breathed in the scent of the bread Anita had been baking all day.  

"My heart says the ranch should be mine either way."  

"Sweetie, even if the new man owns the ranch, your father made arrangements for you to be running it. Nothing will change except the name on the deed."  

"You don't think I should marry Grant?" Elizabeth asked. "Just the other day you were pushing me to give him a chance."  

Anita frowned and went back to brushing her hair, "I changed my mind. If you don't love him then don't marry him. Let someone else take over the deed. You'll run the place either way."  

"No," Elizabeth said with a mixture of sadness, acceptance and resignation. "I won't let this ranch fall into hands that aren't attached to a McCready's arms. My father built this ranch, I've worked it for as long as I can remember and if marrying Grant is what I have to do to make sure I keep working 

and owning it then that’s what I’ll do.“ She gave Anita a sad smile, “After all, true love only happens in storybooks, right?”

"Elizabeth, I...."  

"Please leave. I want to be alone." Elizabeth said gently as she took the brush from Anita and stared down at her bare feet on the hardwood floor.

 Anita stood from the bed and smoothed her dress over her ample frame, "Okay, sweetie. Do you want me to talk to your father?"  

"No," Elizabeth replied, not looking up from her feet. She had a callous on her big toe from her boots. She wondered what Grant would think about that, "I'll tell pa in the morning."  

---

Anita walked out onto the back porch and snuck into the darkness of the yard. She could hear men laughing in the bunkhouse and the sound of crickets chirping in the grass. A coyote yipped in the distance and she pulled her shawl tighter around herself despite the heat.  

She tiptoed to the giant oak in the yard and leaned against the rough bark, waiting for him to come.  

"Anita, love," Braxton's voice filled her ears and her old heart skipped a beat. She turned and there he was. So tall. So strong. So handsome. She had never thought she'd find love but this cowboy was just what she'd been waiting for. After twenty-five years of working at the same ranch, he had finally come to her and admitted his feelings just a few months ago and she had never been happier.  

"Braxton," she said as breathlessly as a love struck school girl.  

He took her in his arms and kissed her passionately, stealing her breath, before looking in her eyes and frowning, "What's wrong?" he asked.  

"We're not going to get the ranch, my love." she said sadly.  

His light blue eyes turned cold, "Why not?"  

"She agreed to marry Grant. The ranch will go to her."  

"That just won't do," Braxton said rubbing his handlebar mustache with his hand.  

"I wanted to finally own this place. Have a maid to cook and clean for me instead of me cooking and cleaning for everyone else," Anita said with a pout.  

Braxton ran his finger down her cheek, "You will, love. I promise you that. I'll put a stop to this marriage."  

Anita froze, "You won't hurt Elizabeth will you? I want the girl out of the way but not dead."  

Braxton smiled reassuringly, "I would never harm Elizabeth." he promised. "I'll just send her on a vacation and by the time she returns, daddy dearest will be dead and the ranch will be ours."  

"Ours," Anita mused with a happy smile. "That sounds good." 	Braxton grinned and kissed her lips hard before pulling away, "I have to get to town and do some things. Get some plans arranged."  

"She said she's telling Ernest in the morning that she'll marry Grant and I'm sure Ernest will want the wedding to be as soon as possible," Anita warned.

"Don't worry, Anita. I will take care of everything, my darling. You just keep me informed on what their plans are."  

She smiled, "Of course."  He ran his calloused thumb over her cheek and then turned and walked away. Anita watched him until he disappeared into the barn and then she hurried back into the house before anyone realized she was missing.

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

"I'll do it, pa. I'll marry Grant." Elizabeth said, her voice strong and clear as she stood ram rod straight and squared her shoulders.  

Ernest looked at her with shock from where he sat at his desk, "You will?" Elizabeth nodded, while keeping her neck so stiff he worried it might snap, "Thank God you saw reason!" he exclaimed as he stood and came around the desk. "Grant should be here in a few hours, he'll be so happy."  

"The man hasn't even asked me yet."  

"I told him not to ask you until I got you to agree because I knew you'd tell him no," Ernest smiled happily. "I'm so pleased!"

 He tried to hug her but she stepped out of his reach and shook her head, "At least one of us is happy. I'm just doing this so I can have 

my ranch.“ She turned on her heel and walked downstairs to the kitchen where Anita had eggs, bacon, bread, fresh fruit and coffee waiting.

"Sit down and eat, sweetie," Anita said gently. "You look as if you didn't get much sleep."  

Elizabeth shook her head and frowned, "I didn't get 

any sleep. I just laid awake and thought of what it would be like to be married to Grant…. Let’s just say I was too afraid of nightmares to close my eyes.“ She thought of the way his lips had been cold and wet when he’d kissed her knuckles. Would they feel the same way against her lips? She shivered at the thought. Anita poured her a cup of coffee and Elizabeth saw the way the old woman’s hands were shaking, “Are you okay?” Elizabeth asked as she took the cup of coffee.

Anita nodded and wrapped her hands in her apron to still them, "Of course. I just don't like knowing that you and your pa are fighting is all," she replied.  

Elizabeth shrugged and after taking a drink of coffee said, "We're not fighting anymore. He won." She grabbed a few strips of bacon in her hand and headed for the door.  

"Elizabeth," Anita called and Elizabeth turned to look at her. "Braxton said to get started on the far east pasture today if you can. He had Wendell and Kent out there yesterday but they didn't get much done." 	Elizabeth nodded, "Okay." She knew that Brody and Thomas could handle the south pasture just fine and quite frankly she was in no mood to deal with Brody today. Not after what he had said yesterday evening.  

"And Elizabeth...."  

"What?" she asked, wondering why the old woman was acting so strangely.  

"I love you, sweetie."  

"I love you too, Anita," she replied. She sat her half filled coffee cup on the counter and went out the back door. She munched on the bacon as she walked to the river.  

She crouched down beside the gently flowing water and stared into its peaceful depths. Why couldn't life be like this river? Peaceful and tranquil. If it was, she would still have her mother, her father would not be dying, she would not be being forced to marry a man she didn't love and the ranch would be hers with or without her name on a marriage certificate.  

Elizabeth let out an irritated growl and picked up a large rock, throwing it with all her might down into the water. She smiled at the waves and ripples that formed and splashed against the banks, turning the peaceful water into raging chaos for a few moments. The river would never get the droplets of its water back that had splashed on the bank. It was forever changed. Forever a bit less than it was. That was real life. One moment things were perfect and the very next they fell apart and you never got back to what you were before.  

"If you're trying to skip rocks, you're going about it the wrong way." Elizabeth turned to see Brody standing behind her with that typical confident, wide-legged stance and his thumbs in his belt loops. She squinted up at his face, which was impossible to see clearly because of the sunlight behind his head and the shadow his hat created.  

"I know how to skip rocks, cowboy," she replied, looking away from him and back down at the water. She tried to ignore the increase in her pulse that his presence created and focus instead on the flowing river.  

"You don't look so good this morning. Are you sick?" Brody asked, crouching down beside her and picking at the grass.  

"Gee, you sure do know how to sweep a woman right off her feet," Elizabeth replied, smiling so sweetly that it hurt her face.  

Brody looked down at the water and smiled, "Naw, not me. I never was much good with words." he looked back at her and the dark circles around her tired green eyes. He saw the way her skin was pale and drawn beneath her hat and he frowned, "You ain't sick are you?"  

She shook her head and looked away from him and down at the water. "No."  

"Good," he replied. He threw the grass he'd been tearing at into the water and stood straight in a swift, fluid motion that revealed some of his power and grace.  

The sound of a buckboard and a horse approaching the house came to both of their ears and though Elizabeth couldn't see who it was because of the house, she knew it was Grant.  

"Shit!" she gasped as she dove for a big boulder and hid behind it. 	Brody tilted his head and pulled a cigarette from his shirt, "What are you doing, Miss McCready?" he asked and then Elizabeth watched as he struck a match across his cheek to light it. "You're gonna have to pull them britches down if you're gonna take a shit."

 He grinned at his own joke and Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "Don't be dim!" she snapped. "I need your help."

 Brody's grin got bigger and then he took a draw off his cigarette and looked around, "Call me dim and then ask for help. Not really the best way to get my cooperation. Can I ask why you're hiding from city boy?"  

"No you can't," she hissed. "Now as your boss I am ordering you to help me."  

Brody flipped some ashes onto the grass and nodded, "Now then, I guess you do know how to get cooperation." he said with amusement. "What can I do for you, ma'am?"   

"Go get a horse, some nails and hammers and then ride over here and get me."  

"Why don't I get two horses?" Brody asked before taking another draw off the cigarette in his hand. Elizabeth shook her head roughly causing her hat to hit the rock and fall off her head and her long blond braid to fall to the grass. Brody hadn't realized her hair was that long and he suddenly wondered what it would look like all let down and brushed out, shining in the sunlight.  

"No. If you get two then everybody will know there's someone else with you and they might guess that it's me. Just get one and we'll ride together to the far east pasture to work."  

"I was supposed to be back in the south....."  

"Don't argue with me!" Elizabeth snapped and the good natured look left Brody's eyes at her temper.  

"Yes, ma'am, Miss McCready. Right away, ma'am." he said, his tone like that of a soldier talking to an army general, which he'd done a time or two.  

Elizabeth watched him stomp away and prayed that he'd get back to her before someone else found her. How would she ever explain exactly why she was lying on her stomach behind a rock by the river?  

She was staring cross-eyed at a caterpillar climbing across a blade of grass in front of her nose when Brody returned with a horse.  

"Took you long enough," she muttered.  

Elizabeth stood up and he reached out a hand to help her up. She took his hand and both of them froze as they felt the heat when skin met skin. They stared into each others eyes for several long, tense moments with the sparks flying between them and threatening to catch the dry Texas grass on fire.  

Brody was the first to recover and he tightened his grip and yanked her up onto the saddle behind him. Elizabeth clung to him, realizing that he smelled like witch hazel and tobacco, as she pressed her nose into the back of his shirt and wrapped her arms tight around his rock hard torso.  

They rode hard to the pasture and the horse was panting when they finally stopped and Brody jumped quickly from the saddle, "What the hell was that about?" he demanded as he opened the saddlebags and pulled out a bag of nails and a hammer.  

"Don't cuss at me," Elizabeth scolded as she worked hard to compose herself and get rid of the tingly feeling coursing through her, that being pressed against his body had caused.  

Brody just grunted and walked over to the damaged fence. He wondered where Kent and Wendell were but the east pasture had miles and miles of fence line and they could be anywhere. He realized he was alone out here with the woman who had his blood heated hotter than the south Texas desert. The woman who was also the bosses daughter and off limits to the likes of him. He never had been much for following rules but he didn't want to get her in trouble and cause any more issues between her and her dying father.

He started pounding nails and was all too aware of Elizabeth's presence as she knelt down about four feet from him and began trying to lift a board to fix the fence. He watched her struggling to lift the board and hold it in place while getting a nail ready and she failed several times, continually dropping the board to the ground. Brody sighed and scooted over to her. He had learned enough about her over the last week and a half to know she would sooner eat the bag of nails beside her than ask for help. He held the board in place while she nailed it and without a word they continued the rhythm they had developed the day before.   

"So what's wrong?" Brody asked after nearly an hour of silently working in the heat.

"My life is over," Elizabeth replied and she winced when she realized how pathetic that statement sounded.  

Brody stood from the fence and walked over to the horse. He pulled a canteen of water out of the saddlebag and took a long drink before wiping his face on his shirt sleeve and handing the canteen to her.  

He turned his gaze to the horizon when she pressed her lips against the rim and only when he heard her screwing the cap back on the canteen did he look back at her.  

"You look like you're alive to me, Miss McCready," he noted. "So your life can't be over."  

Elizabeth looked at him and wondered if she could confide in him without him making her feel like a fool. His green eyes were looking back at her with a warmth she had never noticed in them before and she decided she could.  

"Pretty soon you're gonna be calling me Mrs. Foster. Of course I'm gonna insist on keeping my maiden name in there too."  

Brody's eyes widened just a fraction and he turned away from her quickly and stuck the canteen back in the saddle bag, "I thought you weren't gonna marry Mr. city boy," he said, still looking out at the horizon and avoiding her gaze. He shouldn't care who she married. She wasn't any of his business. But she had told him herself that she didn't want to marry Grant so what had made her change her mind? And why did it make him so angry to imagine another man touching her the way a husband would his wife?  

"I wasn't," she agreed with a sigh as she walked over to the newly repaired section of fence and laid her forearms against the rails, "My pa said that unless I marry him, I don't get the ranch. He says I have to have a husband that he approves of or else the ranch goes to someone else."  

"Who?"  

"I don't know."  

Brody could hear her sadness and it bothered him more than he cared to admit. He walked over and stood next to her, laying his forearms on the fence and leaning against it.  

"My two cents don't count for much, Miss McCready, but I think you'd run this ranch just fine. I didn't think much of having a woman telling me what to do when I first got here.  Of course that was back when I figured you were a spoiled, ugly, rich, painted up lady. Now that I've gotten to know you a little better I can see your grit and toughness. You got what it takes to make it out here."  

"Ugly?" Elizabeth asked as she raised her brow and looked over at him.  

He shook his head, "Out of everything I said, that is what you heard?" he demanded while looking down at the grass.  

Elizabeth looked down at their dirty hands, close together hanging over the fence. Hers were work worn but still soft and feminine when compared to his  which were hard and scarred. She wondered what kinds of things he had done in his life to give him such a hard appearance.  

"I heard what you said," she assured him, "Thank you Brody."  

"I was just speakin' the truth, Miss McCready."  

"Elizabeth. Please call me Elizabeth."  

"Yes, ma'am," he said and she could see a small smile pulling at his firm lips as he too looked at their hands. "So this ranch means so much to you that you would marry a man like Grant to keep it?"  

"Yes. I shouldn't have to marry him to keep it but I would do anything to keep this ranch. I have dedicated my whole life to this place. I don't know how to cook or clean or do anything else a woman is supposed to be able to do. I know cattle and pounding fences and breaking horses.... And I'm not foolish enough to believe that any other ranch would give me chance if I left here. Hell, they'd take one look at me and laugh me right back off their land."  

"Trust me, Elizabeth, no man would take a look at you and laugh," Brody assured her and Elizabeth felt herself blushing as butterflies swarmed in her stomach. Why did she have to be such a typical woman around him? Getting so happy over simple compliments. She looked at Brody and figured he wasn't a man to compliment anyone very often so he probably meant what he was saying and the compliments weren't really simple at all, and that just made her even more confused about her feelings.  

She was falling for Brody but the man had already said he never wanted a wife and, besides,  she had to marry Grant in order to keep her ranch. Why oh why did life have to be so difficult?  

"Seems to me like a foolish thing to do Elizabeth. Ain't no way in hell I'd marry somebody I didn't love just to keep my hands on a piece of land. Hell this country is full of land that ain't owned yet. You could go grab a new piece somewhere else and find a man who would really appreciate a cowgirl like you."  

"Foolish? You just don't understand, Brody. My pa built this place! I've been working it since I learned how to walk! I can't just leave and start over! It would never be the same!" she exclaimed, growing a little angry that she had to defend herself to him like this.  

Brody shrugged, "I was just giving my two cents on the matter."  

"When I want your two cents, I'll ask for it! I thought of all people you would understand about having a sense of loyalty to something your family built seeing as how you fought in that war to protect your family's way of life."  

Brody straightened up and stared down at her, "You have no idea why I fought in that war. It sure as hell wasn't over no patch of dirt and a couple of cows. I was fighting out of loyalty to my family not anything they built."  

"Well I'm sorry I'm not as perfect as you are, Brody Atkinson, but this place means a lot to me and I don't want to marry that city boy to keep it but that's just the direction my life took and there ain'T a whole hell of a lot I can do about it," Elizabeth snapped, standing straight herself and putting her hands on her hips as she glared up at him.  

A blind man could have seen the sparks of intensity jumping between the two of them as they stared at each other. Sparks of both temper and passion. Elizabeth waited for Brody to say something but he didn't. Instead he looked away from her and out over the grassy, rolling hills.  

"Well is that all you got to say about it, cowboy? You said your piece and your done now whether or not the other person is ready......"

"Shut-up," he whispered harshly.  

Elizabeth's nostrils flared and she fought the urge to punch him in his arrogant face as he continued to look away from her, "How dare you, I'll have you fired, Brody..."

 Her words were cut off when he grabbed her by the arm, spun her around, pulled her back into his chest and clamped his hand over her mouth.  

"Shut-up." he whispered again, much more firmly and this time 	Elizabeth had no choice but to listen to him and she heard the sound of a horse whinnying a short distance away. She figured it was just Kent or Wendell but she quickly knew it wasn't when she looked up and saw the severe set of Brody's jaw. He was worried.  

Brody listened closely and then he heard it, the distinct cocking of a revolver. He threw Elizabeth to the ground just before a bullet ripped through the air and slammed into his forearm, coming cleanly out the other side.  

"Brody!" Elizabeth shouted.  

Brody crouched down beside her, ignored the pain, and pressed a finger to his lips to shush her. He lifted his head slightly above the grass line and saw three men riding toward them on horseback.  

Brody pulled his revolver, "You stay down," he warned her. He stood up but before he could fire a single shot, he heard a twig snap behind him just before the butt of a gun came down sharply on the back of his head.  

The look of horror and fear on Elizabeth's beautiful face as a huge man grabbed her was the last thing Brody saw before he fell unconscious to the ground.  

Elizabeth fought against the man that had grabbed her but he just laughed. He was close to seven feet tall and solid muscle, and her five and a half foot frame was no match for him.  

"What do you want?!" she exclaimed as three other men rode up on horseback.  

"You, Elizabeth McCready," the big man replied and then she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head before her world went black.

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Brody groaned and cursed the pounding in his head and the dryness in his mouth. He was lying on a hard wooden floor inside a sealed wagon. The walls and roof of the wagon were solid wood instead of canvas, making any idea of escape vanish from his mind.  

The wagon was lurching and bouncing and each movement sent waves of pain throughout his body. He could hear the sounds of hooves on either side as well as some behind it. The wagon was clearly surrounded on all sides.  

"Elizabeth..." he croaked out through his raspy, dry throat. His sat up quickly, ignoring the pain and dizziness he felt and looked around the dark interior. He saw her lying on her stomach on the wooden floor. Her eyes were closed and she had a lump above her temple and dried blood on her face.  

"God, let her be okay." he whispered and he crawled across the bouncing wagon. He gently smoothed some blond strands of loose hair from her face, "Elizabeth, wake up."  

Brody let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when she groaned and shifted. She didn't awaken but at least now he knew she was responsive.   

The pain in his arm reminded him that he'd been shot. He looked down at the blood covering his shirt and rolled his sleeve up. The wound was far enough to the side of his arm that it had missed the bones and any major arteries or veins. It was little more than a flesh wound despite being a through and through, and the bleeding had already slowed to nothing more than a slow oozing.

Brody reached in his pocket, unsurprised to find that his gun belt and revolver were gone. He was sure the kidnappers had taken it, thinking that that would make him helpless.  

He smiled at their ignorance.  

Brody pulled his bandana from his pocket and, using his uninjured arm and his teeth, he tied it around his wounded arm.  

He turned his attention back to Elizabeth and gave her a shake, "Wake up, Elizabeth. It's time to get up now." He had no idea how long they'd been unconscious without food and water. Judging by how dry and cracked his lips were it had been a day or longer. "Elizabeth, wake up." he said more sternly as he shoved her harder.  

She moaned and her eyelids fluttered open, "Brody, you're alive!" she exclaimed and before he knew what she was going to do, she had jumped up to her knees and was throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight. Shock was the first thing he felt. How long had it been since he'd been hugged? His mother had hugged him that summer morning nine years ago just before the union soldiers had come through and......  

He shook his head to clear those thoughts and instead focused on the warm, soft body pressed so closely to his. Elizabeth was beautiful. She was strong. She was independent and she was stubborn. But there was something else in her. A vulnerability that she would probably deny but that was plain for him to see. She needed someone to protect her. Her father didn't have her best interests at heart, Anita wasn't on her side and Brody didn't trust Braxton as far as he could throw the oak tree of a man. He had seen Braxton and Anita having secret rendezvous under the oak tree. It was also clear to Brody that Grant only wanted Elizabeth for one thing and that was the ranch.   

 Brody didn't know the four men that had kidnapped them but he knew it had to have something to do with the chaos that had been going on at home. Either Grant or Braxton had sent these men for Elizabeth and the only logical man was Braxton. Grant wanted to marry her so he wouldn't want her gone but what did Braxton stand to gain by her disappearance? 	Brody thought back to Elizabeth saying that her father had made plans to leave the ranch to someone else if Elizabeth didn't marry Grant and he had a sinking feeling that he knew just who that someone was.  And he had an even worse feeling that Anita had helped that someone lead Elizabeth into this trap.  

Elizabeth pulled away and swooned as her head swam. She raised her hand to her temple as Brody grabbed her arm to steady her.  

"Where are we?" she asked.

 Brody shrugged, "In a wagon I guess."

 She rolled her eyes, "How long have we been in  here?"  

"A day.. Longer maybe."  

"I'm glad you're with me....I was scared Brody," she admitted with a shiver. "I was scared about what those men were going to do to me...I couldn't stand it if.... If a man did that to me again."

 Brody had been digging through his pockets searching for his cigarettes and matches but at her words he froze and his eyes flew to her face. A protective rage filled him. Her eyes had taken on a haunted look as she stared at the wooden wall of the wagon.  

"Again?"  

"Huh?" she asked, raising her hand back up to her swollen temple and wincing.  

"You said again." If there was one thing Brody couldn't tolerate it was a man taking a woman against her will. Just the thought of that had memories of his mother and his sister's screams coming back into his mind... The sound of tearing fabric as the union soldiers had ripped their dresses from their bodies while Brody and his brother Jacob had hidden beneath the floorboards with their two toddler sisters.  

Elizabeth bit her lip and shook her head. Why had she just said that to him? She supposed maybe the lump on her head had rattled her brain a little more than she had thought.  

"No I didn't."  

"Yes you did." Brody assured her.   

"How is your arm?" Elizabeth asked, wanting to turn his attention to something other than her.  

Brody looked down at the black bandana tied around his arm and shrugged, "It's fine."

 He saw her bite her dry, cracked lip and he vowed that he'd do for her what he couldn't do for his mother and sisters. No man would touch her against her will as long as he had a say in the matter.  

"Are you sure it's okay? You've lost a lot of blood." Elizabeth said as she looked at his blood stained shirt and the drying puddle of blood on the wagon floor.  

"Yeah, I'm sure."  

"How can you be sure...?"  

"Shut-up," he snapped and Elizabeth's nostrils flared angrily but she did as he said. The man really needed to learn to have better manners. The wagon came to a stop with a jolt that sent Elizabeth flying across the wagon and Brody caught her just before her head struck the wall and he held her as they listened to the  men talking outside.  

"What are we going to do with them?"  

"Leave them here inside the wagon."  

"But that man paid us to kill that girl."

"Look, I'm a thief and a kidnapper but I sure as hell ain't no murderer. Besides they're nearly two days hard riding away from the ranch, easily a week on foot and they'll never get out of that wagon. They'll roast alive in there and die just the way he wanted."  

"That man in there wasn't a part of the deal... What the hell was he doing out there with her?"  

"How the hell should I know? I'm glad he was though because this gun and belt are nice."  

"I want me a piece of that woman. She was a good looking little number."  

"You do what you want, we're leaving."  

"I'll stay with him. I'd like a turn too... Course we may have to put a bullet in that man's head. I don't think he'd take too kindly to us touching his woman."  

"See you all around then. I'm taking their guns and holsters back to that bastard and telling him they're dead."

"Me too."   

"They're as good as dead."  

Brody listened closely to the sound of the team of horses being removed from the wagon and then the wagon pitched downward as the tongue fell to the ground. He braced his legs to keep himself and Elizabeth from falling backward.  

"Brody, what are we going to do?" Elizabeth asked, her voice full of fear. Her father had been right. She'd lived a life of privilege and hadn't realized that things like this could really happen to her. Kidnapping, murder... these were all new to her.  

"Didn't I tell you to shut-up?" Brody whispered harshly. He heard two people walking toward the back of the wagon as the sound of horses running faded into the distance. He shoved Elizabeth down on the wooden floor and his stern look told her that he expected her to stay there. Then he moved toward the back door of the wagon and he pulled a short, but very sharp looking knife from his boot.  

A knife?! He was going to go after two men who had guns with nothing but a little bitty knife?

Brody waited, crouched, his heart racing with adrenaline and anticipation. The door opened and he launched himself at the man standing there. It was the big man. The one that had knocked him out in the field.  

Elizabeth watched in horror as Brody grabbed the big mans wrist with his wounded arm and  fought to keep the gun the big man was holding pointed in the air instead of at him or her. Elizabeth couldn't believe the strength Brody had. This man had to weigh at least one hundred pounds of solid muscle more than him but neither man was gaining nor losing ground as they stayed locked in a battle of sheer willpower.  

Suddenly Brody swung his left hand up and Elizabeth heard a sickening, wet, thud as he stuck his knife deep into the big mans temple and just like that the mans body went limp as the other man began firing shots into the wagon.  

"Stay down, Elizabeth!" Brody yelled over the sound of gunfire.  

He used the big man as a shield and grabbed his gun from his dead hand. He couldn't see the second man around the big man's body but he could hear the gun shots being fired and sinking into the big man's flesh.  

He raised his hand and fired a single shot, aiming about a foot to the left of where he guessed the gun was and smiled when he heard the wet sound of bullet meeting flesh and then the gurgling sound of the second man's lungs filling with blood.  

He tossed the big man off of him and out of the wagon, his body landing with a thud on the dirt. Brody looked back at Elizabeth, saw her pale and shaking with shock but unharmed and then he jumped to the ground. He stuck big man's pistol into the waistband of his pants, it still had five shots left in it that they might end up needing.  

He looked around but the horses were gone, spooked off by the gun shots, and with them they'd taken the saddlebags with all the ammunition, water and food these men might have had. He looked around the dry, grassy land surrounding them and then up at the blazing sun that was beating down on the back of his neck.  

"Thomas was right... You're a real life tough guy. I've never seen anything like that," Elizabeth's voice said from behind him.  

"I was lucky. And so were you that you didn't get shot. Ain't got nothing to do with being tough."  

Elizabeth didn't argue but inside she knew he was wrong. There wasn't another man alive that she knew that could fight off two men with a lump on his head and a hole in his arm. Especially when one of those men was as big as a tree and he couldn't even see the other but somehow had managed to send a bullet straight into his heart and lungs.  

"What do we do now?" she asked and Brody could tell she was afraid. He felt her moving closer to him and he froze when he felt her breasts press against his arm. "These dead people make me uncomfortable." 	Brody cleared his throat and moved away from her, "Why? They're dead, they can't hurt ya." he replied as he walked back over to the big guy and pulled his knife from his temple. He wiped the knife clean on big guys shirt and slid it back inside his boot. He made his way to the smaller man and went through his pockets finding them empty. He threw the man over his shoulder and put him and the big guy into the wagon before shutting the door.  

"Who is their boss and why does he want me dead?" Elizabeth asked out loud.  

 Brody shrugged, "That's not important right now. Right now we gotta get to walking and find us some water."  

Elizabeth nodded and followed in his footsteps as he started walking across the dusty, grass covered ground. Her mind was racing, her head was pounding, her stomach was growling and her mouth and lips were so dry that they hurt, but she didn't say anything because she remembered Brody saying that complaining was one of the only things that women were good for and she'd be damned before she showed him he was right.  

Who was Brody Atkinson? He was tough, deadly and clearly a little cold inside because he hadn't even batted an eye over killing two men. 	Elizabeth knew that killing those men had been unavoidable but shouldn't a man act a little upset when he took another man's life? That wasn't all there was too Brody though. Sometimes those intense eyes were warm when they looked at her and sometimes he was funny and joking. Other times his short temper and lack of manners were startling.  He was like five different men rolled into one and his multiple personalities kept her confused and intrigued. One thing was clear.... He knew how to handle himself out here and with him she might just make it home alive.

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Elizabeth was sure she couldn't go another step. Her legs were shaking beneath her and her whole body hurt. Her face was red and burning from the sun, without her hat to protect it, and her mouth was dryer than the sand and grass beneath her feet. Her tongue felt as if it was swelling bigger by the second and when she raised her hand to her lips, she realized they were bleeding. She was no longer sweating since there was no water left inside of her for her body to use as sweat.  

Brody had been keeping a steady pace in front of her for hours as the Texas sun beat down on their heads. His hat was gone as well, his clothes were blood covered and filthy and his hair was knotted and messy on his head. She wished he'd turn around and see how tired she was so they could stop because there was no way on God's green earth she was going to voice a single word of complaint. Not when he was walking as if enjoying a nice stroll through the park. His shoulders held high, his steps long and steady. Why couldn't he be stumbling the way she was? Bullet wound and all he was unstoppable and it irritated her.  

She looked down at the ground and her head swam as her eyes drifted closed. She tripped over her own feet and prepared herself for the pain she knew she'd feel when she hit the ground. Instead she felt two strong arms close around her and lift her from the ground, cradling her against a rock hard chest. She wanted to protest to being held like a child but her body was too weak and her mind to weary. She didn't even open her eyes as she curled up against him and threw her arms around his neck.

Brody looked down at her, sound asleep against his chest and knew he was in trouble. So much for never letting a woman get under his skin. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, she was so deep under his skin she might as well be a part of him.  

He'd tried to keep his distance at the ranch but even then her hardworking spirit, her confidence, her determination to make it as a woman in a man's world had impressed him. Her  beauty and her grace had attracted him and her temper had both infuriated and excited him.   

Now holding her in his arms, so soft and helpless in her weakened state he felt the last of his defenses crumbling. Brody continued on, his legs weak and shaking. His only thought was that he had to find Elizabeth some water. He was following some deer tracks in the dried up ground, hoping they'd lead him to some kind of water since most critters out here were looking for water.  

He saw a small watering hole in the distance and blinked several times to make sure he wasn't imagining things. When the water remained where it was he breathed a sigh of relief. They weren't going to die yet. He carried her to the waters edge and dropped to his knees beside it. He wrinkled his nose, the water stunk like sulfur, which meant it would taste horrible but it wouldn't harm them. It was mud filled and dirty but it was water and it would give them something to drink.  

He dipped his hand in the water, finding that it was warm and he ran his dripping fingertips over Elizabeth's chapped, bloody lips. She moaned and her tongue darted out and his heart pounded when it flicked across his fingers. Her eyes remained closed and as he wet his hand again and rubbed more water across her parched pink lips he looked more closely at her face. She was getting sun burnt out in the sun without her hat to protect her delicate skin. Her hair was coming loose from the braid and tangling around her face. She looked exhausted, and her skin was drawn.  Brody kicked himself for not slowing his pace for her.  

For the last nine years he had worried about no one but himself and he supposed that wasn't a habit he'd be able to break in a day but he did vow to pay more attention to how she was faring. She might think she was a tough cowgirl, and she was when it came to working a ranch, but she had never been through something like this.

"Elizabeth, wake up, cowgirl. You gotta get you something to drink." he said.  

Her eyelids fluttered open, "Water?" she asked.  

Brody nodded, "I found water."  

Elizabeth let herself enjoy the feel of his body against hers for another moment before pulling away and looking at the muddy, dirt filled, foul smelling water hole. This sure didn't look like drinking water to her. She didn't complain out loud of course.  

She watched Brody bend down and press his mouth against the water, drinking several small sips before closing his eyes and dunking his whole head beneath the surface. He came up and slung his long hair back, sending droplets of water flying through the air and covering her in their spray.  

He smiled over at her and she felt her heart skip a beat. He was dirty, he stunk like sulfur water and sweat but he was still the single most ruggedly handsome man she had ever seen. His smile curved the scar on his cheek and put a mischievous glint in his green eyes.  

"That feels better," he said, shaking his hair out the same way she'd seen the dogs in town do. "You gonna get a drink or not?"  

Elizabeth sighed and looked down at the nasty watering hole. She didn't have much of a choice in the matter. If she didn't drink she'd die. And if he could do it then so could she.   

"Yeah, I'm gonna drink."  

"Small sips or you'll get stomach cramps and throw it right back up." he warned and she nodded. Just as her lips touched the water he added,  "Oh yeah, it tastes like shit."  

Elizabeth couldn't keep herself from laughing and ended up sucking a bunch of the fouling smelling stuff up through her nose. She coughed loudly and Brody patted her back. Once she was certain she wasn't going to drown she pressed her lips back to the water and took several small sips. He was right, it tasted horrible, but as thirsty as she was it might as well have been ice cold lemonade.  

"I'm not sticking my head in there though." she said as she sat back on her heels and he shrugged.  

"It'd help cool you off." he replied.  

She took another drink of the water and looked at him as she wiped her mouth, "Thank you, Brody."  

"For?" he asked as he went back to searching through his pockets.  

"For saving me from those men. I hate that you had to kill them but...."  

"Not like I had much of a choice." he said defensively and he felt the thrill of victory as he pulled his matches and a few rolled cigarettes from deep in his pants pocket. The bastards hadn't taken them. "They were gonna kill me and do worse to you. I've killed men for less."  

"How many men have you killed, Brody?" Elizabeth asked as she bit her lip and looked out over the plains and small outcroppings of trees around them.  

"Don't ask questions that you don't really want to know the answer to, ma'am." he replied, standing straight and shoving his cigarettes and matches back in his pocket. "Do you have a bandana?"  

Elizabeth was irritated that he was suddenly acting so distant again. Where was the man who had just smiled so mischievously at her moments ago? The man who had picked her up in his arms and carried her when she was too weak to go on.   

She reached in her pocket and pulled out her bandana before placing it in his outstretched hand. He dipped it in the water and then motioned for her to stand up. Elizabeth did, though her weak, tired legs protested the movement.  

She felt her heart beating out of her chest as he wrapped the wet bandana around her neck. His calloused fingers grazed across the exposed flesh of her neck and upper chest as he tied it in place. Elizabeth noticed that he kept his fingers on her skin slightly longer than necessary but when she looked up at his face he quickly turned away and crouched back down to the water.

Neither of them spoke and when Brody stood again he had his handful of cool mud.   

Elizabeth studied him with curiosity, "What are you going to do with that?"  

"Put it on your face," he replied simply.  

"Why?" she asked, taking a step back.  

He let out an impatient sigh and shifted his weight to his left foot, "To help keep your face cool and to keep the sun from burning you anymore. I'm gonna do the same to me."  

Elizabeth nodded and stepped closer to him. She didn't want the mud on her but she wanted to feel those big calloused fingers touching her so she'd do what he wanted.  

Brody took his time to make sure every inch of her soft face was covered with mud. He even coated her ears, which were cherry red from the sun. He ran his fingers along her defined cheekbones, and across her strong, stubborn chin, barely fighting the urge to touch those full pink lips. What would she think if he kissed her right now? Hell as much as she seemed to hate him most of the time, she'd probably kick him in the family jewels.  

He took his hand from her skin and was about to get some mud to do his own face but Elizabeth beat him to it.  

"My turn." she said quickly.  

Brody could hear a shakiness in her voice and he realized she was nervous. Was she nervous to touch him because she was scared of him after seeing him kill those men or was she nervous to touch him because she felt the same rage of emotions and fire filled passion that he felt every time their bodies touched.  

Brody didn't know where his self control came from but he managed to hold stone still even as his body came alive and screamed for her while her tiny fingers brushed across his face.  

Elizabeth looked at him and wondered what he was thinking. His green eyes had darkened as they looked down at hers. His jaw was tense and as hard as stone beneath the thick stubble that was covering his face. It was more of a beard now then stubble but that pale scar still shown clearly. Her hands trembled as she touched him and wished she could run her fingers across more than just his face.  

"Thanks." Brody said gruffly as he stepped away from her and pulled out a cigarette. She watched him strike a match across his mud covered cheek in his usual way of lighting it and she smiled.  

"You're going to end up catching that beard on fire one of these times," she warned.  

He nodded as he took a draw off his cigarette, "I need a shave." he agreed.  "You better get another drink of water. I don't know when we'll find more." They both knelt beside the water and drank their fill before standing up.  

"Where are we going?" Elizabeth asked. The wagon had brought them off of any roads or paths.  

Brody shrugged as he gazed around them, "I thought about backtracking the wagon but decided to find water instead. I'd like to find a homestead so we can get some food and shelter for the night but I'd settle for some trees next to a river."  

"I'm really hungry," Elizabeth said as she looked around them.  

"I'll try to keep my eyes out for something for you to eat, cowgirl," he said gently and she was surprised by that gentleness and felt her heart fill with affection for him. "And this time, if I'm moving too fast let me know. I can't read your damned mind," he added with his usual hard tone and Elizabeth sighed. There was a gentle, loving man hidden in there somewhere. It was just buried beneath a lot of hard, roughness that, she had a feeling, a stick of dynamite couldn't even crack.  

Brody started walking and she followed after him feeling more energized after having had a drink and of course from the pleasure she'd felt as they'd touched each others faces... Even if it had only been to prevent sunburn.  

---

Brody never did find a river before the sun dipped low in the sky but he did find a small stream with a few small trees and bushes around it, "This'll have to do for the night."  

Elizabeth crouched down beside the water and took several long drinks. This water was cool and clear and tasted a heck of a lot better than the watering hole had. She started scrubbing her face clean, wanting to remove the mud, sweat and blood.  

"You gather up some wood close to camp for fire. I'll walk further down this stream and see what I can find," Brody ordered before walking away.

 Elizabeth finished cleaning her face, untied her bandana and used it to wipe the water from her skin and then began looking for kindling for the fire. It was fairly easy to find and she was well on her way to having a large pile.  

She saw a nice looking branch that was under a small bush and she reached for it. The sound of a rattle filled the air and she froze. She saw the giant black and yellow ratter only inches from her hand and fought back the urge to scream. Screaming and acting scared to death would only irritate Brody. He was clearly a man who found importance in bravery and strength.  

She couldn't just jerk her hand away or the rattler might strike and backing away slowly wasn't an option because her legs were shaking too bad to listen to simple directions. All her years on the ranch and Elizabeth had never been this close to a live rattler.  

"Brody?" she called calmly. "Brody, please hurry up and come here." She heard him coming toward her and she could tell he was dragging something big but she was too afraid to take her eyes off of the snake to look and see what it was.  

"What's wrong?" he grunted with irritation.

"A snake," she replied, hoping her voice wasn't shaking as badly as she thought it was.  

Brody walked over and looked over her shoulder, "Yep," he said with a nod. "That's a snake."  

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "Thank goodness for your skills of observation." she snapped, her nervousness causing her 'ice queen' demeanor to come back out. "Do you think you could shoot it?"  

"Nope. We've only got five bullets and you never know when we'll get attacked by coyotes or bandits." Elizabeth shivered at the thought. "Don't move," he warned as he walked around to the other side of the bush the snake was laying in.  

"I can pretty much guarantee you that I won't move." she assured him.

 Brody looked at her face. She was clearly afraid but anyone would be when facing down a five foot rattler. She wasn't crying or screaming like most women would but then again, Elizabeth wasn't like most women. That's what he admired most about her.  

Brody whistled, "God, that's a big one."  

"Yes, and it's about two seconds away from biting my hand off so if you're going to do something now would be the time," Elizabeth snapped and Brody smiled. That temper was something else.  

He squatted down, "On the count of three, you jump back." 	Elizabeth's eyes widened and she spared him a quick glance. "Trust me,  I won't let him bite you," he promised. Elizabeth nodded and drew in a shaky breath. Brody winked at her and then looked own at the snake, "One. Two. Three!"  

She jumped backward and the snake lunged but it was stopped when Brody's big hand closed around its neck. Elizabeth covered her mouth in an attempt to hide her scream. She was sure Brody was going to be bitten but then he lifted the snake in the air, put his other hand behind the first and twisted. A snapping sound filled the air and the snake's body went limp in his hands.  

Elizabeth felt relief flow through her and her body nearly went as limp as the rattlers. Brody reached in his boot and pulled out his knife. He cut off the snakes still deadly head and then laid the creature over his shoulder.  

"What are you doing with that snake?" she asked.  

"He's dinner," Brody replied simply.  

Elizabeth felt her stomach growl in anticipation even as her mind rebelled against the idea of eating something that spent it's days crawling around on its belly.  

She looked around and saw the dead tree lying where only grass had been before.  

"Did you drag that tree here?" she demanded.  

Brody nodded as he walked over to the pile of wood she'd gathered, "Yep. It'll be enough wood to last the night."  

Elizabeth looked at his body in awe as he moved around the campsite. Every movement he made was full of a power and a lethal grace that she had never seen before. Most men had habits of tapping their feet or making other motions and movements that they did just to be moving, but not Brody. His every movement accomplished some goal and if he had no reason to move then his body became as still as a granite statue.  

"I'm gonna get a fire going so we can cook this big guy up. I don't know about you but my stomach is eating my backbone," Brody admitted, rubbing at his lean stomach.  

Elizabeth's stomach growled in agreement and she quickly wiped some drool from her lip, "I need to go take care of some things." She shifted from foot to foot, hoping he'd get the idea.  

 Brody nodded, grabbed the gun from his pants and tossed it to her. 	She caught it and looked at him questioningly, "I thought you said we can't waste bullets."  

He shrugged as he broke apart kindling and began building the fire, "If firing a bullet saves your life then I sure as hell don't see it as a waste." he replied. "Hurry back, don't make me worry about ya," he added without looking up at her.  

Elizabeth put the gun in the waistband of her pants and smiled, "You'd worry about me?"  

Brody nodded, still not looking up, and she realized that was the only reply she was going to get. She was still smiling as she walked away. He was falling for her the same as she was for him. At least that's what she would bet on, if she was betting woman.

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Brody had a fire going and had picked some of the long grasses to improvise a makeshift bed by the time Elizabeth returned. The sun was nearly set and dark shadows stretched across the land as the firelight glowed. Brody had some sticks over the fire and the snake meat was stretched across them. The scent of the cooking meat filled Elizabeth's senses and caused her to drool.  

"Took you long enough," Brody snapped roughly.

Elizabeth bristled at first but then stopped herself from responding just as harshly. She was starting to understand that his temper was often a cover for other emotions like fear and tenderness. She thought maybe he was ashamed to show those things and so he used his temper to cover them up. Just the same as her temper often came out at innocent people when she was irritated at someone or something else.  

"I found us some prickly pears," Elizabeth held out the treats she'd found.  

Brody nodded, "Those'll taste good with the snake." He pulled another cigarette from his pocket and lit it in the campfire.  

"You might want to slow down smoking those things," Elizabeth warned as she sat down cross legged, on the other side of the fire.  

Brody took a long draw and then he blew out perfect smoke rings, that floated up into the darkness. Elizabeth wondered if he was trying to impress her and when she looked back at his face she saw that he was smiling with amusement.  

"Why's that?" he asked.  

Elizabeth quickly looked away from his face and poked a stick at the small fire. Looking at him made her body fill with a tingling heat that made it impossible for her to think. Had she really looked down on women that couldn't control their thoughts, emotions and bodies around attractive men? Every time she looked at Brody or their bodies brushed together she had to fight the urge to throw herself into his arms and kiss him with reckless abandon.  

She felt a heated flush color her cheeks and when she cast a glance back at Brody she saw that his eyes had darkened in the firelight. The fire was casting shadows across his face and judging by the way his head was cocked to the side and the intensity in his green eyes as they roamed over her, he knew where her mind had gone.  

"Why what?" she whispered, suddenly forgetting what they had been talking about.  

Brody shifted and held out his hand, "Give me them pears," he said, his voice deep and rough.  

She handed them to him and sparks flew through the night air as their hands brushed. Brody pulled away quickly and began peeling the pears with his knife. "Why should I slow down on the cigarettes?" he asked.

 Elizabeth looked at the cigarette that was now hanging off his firm lip and remembered what they'd been talking about before her thoughts had become completely out of control, "Because you'll run out... I know that Braxton becomes as grouchy as a bull with a toothache if he runs out of tobacco."  

The mention of Braxton drove all sensual thoughts of Elizabeth from Brody's mind. Anger took their place as he remembered his suspicions that Braxton was the one that had had Elizabeth kidnapped and Braxton was the one that had told those men to kill her. Brody could only thank God that Braxton's hired men hadn't been worried about honesty or loyalty because killing her would have been easy while he'd been unconscious. He shivered at the thought of her dying and since it was an unpleasant thought he pushed it aside.  

"Don't worry, Elizabeth, I promise I'll be nice even if I run out of cigarettes."  

"You, nice?" she snorted with laughter and  Brody looked truly hurt.  

"You don't think I'm nice?" he asked.  

"Are you honestly asking me that? You're as prickly as the damn cactus I picked those pears of off." Elizabeth replied with a smile.

 Brody's eyes lit with amusement when he realized she was teasing him. She was an incredible woman. She'd been hit over the head, kidnapped, witnessed him kill two men before the two of them had been left for dead. She had been walking through the hot Texas heat all day, nearly been bitten by a rattler and looked more tired than anyone he'd ever seen but still she was joking.  

She was his kind of woman. Brody hadn't realized that he had a 'kind' of woman until he'd met Elizabeth McCready. If they made it back to that ranch alive, there was no way in hell he was letting her marry Grant Foster. She was going to be his, but first he had to save both of them.  

"And you, Miss McCready, are like the damn rattler we're fixin' to eat.... 'Course I guess that's not right because at least the rattler warns a man before it sinks in its fangs."   

Elizabeth made a face at him that had him chuckling and then she reached out her hand, "If you're done peeling that pear, I'd like to eat it now because I don't think I've got much of a backbone left."  

"Yes ma'am," Brody replied and he tossed a peeled pear to her. She bit into the pear and Brody felt his body stiffen and his pants become a little tighter when she moaned with pleasure. Juice ran over her lip and down her chin as her eyes slipped closed.   

Brody cleared his throat, put his cigarette out on his boot and began to eat his own pear, being careful to keep his eyes off of her. The sounds of her pleasure as she ate the pear filled the air and there was nothing he could do to keep from hearing them. He tried to focus on the owl hooting in the distance, the gentle flowing stream and the crickets in the grass but still those soft, feminine moans cut through.  

They didn't speak as they ate the pears and the snake and then, after taking a drink from the stream, Elizabeth walked toward the grass bed, "Thanks for making me a bed."  

Brody shook his head, stepped around her and stretched out on the bed of grass, "I didn't make you a bed."  

Elizabeth's face fell and she put her hands on her hips, "Where am I supposed to sleep?" she demanded.  

 Brody shrugged before folding his hands behind his head and crossing his legs, "Make yourself a bed." He grinned and laid his arm out, "Or you could sleep with me."  

Elizabeth felt a warm tingling sensation that started in her head and worked its way down to her low abdomen where it coiled and pooled and filled her with an ache that she had never felt before.  

"Make up your damn mind because I'm going to sleep," Brody growled and he rolled to his side away from her.  

Elizabeth felt the heat cool suddenly. It was as if someone had doused her with cold water. That man could be such an ass.  

She stomped around gathering grass and laid it out about a foot and a half from where he lay. She took the gun from her pants and set it on the ground between them and then she curled up on her side and stared at his broad back. Had he really wanted her to curl up with him or had he only been teasing? She couldn't tell. She had never met anyone who confused her the way he did.  

"Get some sleep Elizabeth, quit staring at my back so hard," Brody mumbled and she quickly rolled to her other side and stared off into the night.  

"Goodnight Brody."  

"Yeah," he grunted in agreement and Elizabeth closed her eyes to try to find sleep.  

---

The early summer morning that the dirty soldiers rode up to the small family shack, started innocently enough. The mist was still rising over the mountains and everything was dripping with dew. The air was thick and already warm. It was going to be a hot day. Brody and Jacob were sitting at the table with their mother and father and their two younger twin, three year old sisters. They were eating a breakfast of oatmeal and fresh goat milk.  Christine and Catherine, Brody's older sisters were outside picking some peaches for the two young girls to eat with their breakfast. 


"We have to get the garden hoed today before the weeds kill our plants," Hank Atkinson told his sons. Brody and Jacob both nodded. 


"I want a dolly," little Susie said and Sally nodded in agreement. Their mother, Sara, smiled and rose from the table. She left the room and came back a moment later with two small dolls, she'd made with black thread, and burlap sacks. She'd even sewed them tiny gingham dresses just like the girls wore. 


"Yay!" Susie and Sally exclaimed as they took their new toys and held them tight. "Thank you mama!" 


Brody smiled. He loved his family. At sixteen most boys his age were wanting to break away and start lives of their own but not Brody. His seventeen year old brother Jacob was in no hurry to leave either. 


The sound of horses approaching on the dusty mountain road reached their ears and Hank stood and opened the wooden shutter so he could look outside. Brody knew instantly that something was wrong when his father's shoulders tensed and he turned to his family. 


"Brody, Jacob, take the little ones under the floor," he ordered. 


"What is it pa?" Brody asked. 


"Do as I say boy!" Hank yelled and Brody knew then that trouble was coming. Hank was a peace loving man. Against any kind of violence and only owning one hunting rifle. He never yelled and Brody had never seen him angry. 


Brody and Jacob rose from the table and grabbed Susie and Sally. Brody yanked open the trap door and they lay down on their stomachs beneath the floorboards as their mother closed the door. 


"Hank what is it?" she asked. 


"Union soldiers," he replied. 


"Christine and Catherine!" she exclaimed. 


"Hopefully they'll hide," he said. 


Brody lay there and listened and he heard his sisters yells of fear come from outside. He heard boots pounding across the porch and then the shack door flew open and banged against the wall. 


"Let go of my daughters!" Hank exclaimed. "We'll provide you with food and...." 


"It isn't food we're wanting you damn rebel." a Yankee voice replied and the sound of a gunshot filled the air in the tiny shack. Brody clamped his hands over his tiny sisters mouths and looked at Jacob in horror. Both brothers were helpless to do anything to help.

 The sound of a body hitting the ground above them had Brody looking up through the cracks to see his fathers lifeless green eyes staring down at him. His blood dripped through the crack and landed with a plopping thud on Brody's cheek. He couldn't wipe it away because he was using both his hands to keep his sisters quiet. 


"Hank!" his mother screamed and then the sound of ripping fabric and feminine screams filled the air. Brody couldn't see what was happening but he could hear his mother and sisters pleas, he could hear the tearing fabrics, the grunting of the soldiers, and the slapping of flesh against flesh. 


It seemed hours, though it was only minutes, that these sounds filled the shack and then suddenly there was silence. Brody felt his heart fall at the silence. 'Please let them be okay.' he prayed silently. He had lost his father to these Yankees, he couldn't lose his mother and his older sisters too. 


The sounds of the soldiers walking around the house and his mother's organized cupboards being opened and destroyed, slowly faded and then just as quickly as they'd come the soldiers left the house and the sound of their horses hooves pounding away faded into the distance. 


Jacob was the first to open the trap door and step out and Brody heard him vomit on the cabin floor. He moved his hands off his sisters mouths and covered their tear filled eyes. They cried as he led them out into the cabin. 


Brody stared in shock and horror. His father was dead of course with a single gunshot to his forehead. His mother, Catherine and Christine were staring lifelessly at the ceiling. Their clothes had been ripped from their bodies and they were covered in hundreds of cuts from the soldiers knives. Their lives had not been spared.

 Brody felt his own lunch wanting to rise but fought it back and in that moment something inside of him died. His mind became black with rage and his heart filled with nothing but a need for vengeance. 


He looked down at his loving mother and then suddenly the scene changed. He was inside the wagon that he and Elizabeth had been taken away in. He looked through the dim light and saw Elizabeth, her blond hair turned red with blood and she stared lifelessly at the ceiling. Her beautiful face was gray with her lifelessness and her blood coated the wagon floor. Her clothing was ripped and torn and it was clear that she' d been violated. 


"No! No, not her too!" he screamed as he crawled across the rough wood planks to her body. "I saved her! I saved her! Elizabeth!" He shook her and shook her and shook her but she didn't wake. 


Tears filled his eyes and he gathered her in his arms and kissed her bloody hair, "Wake up, cowgirl. Please wake up. Don't leave me..."

"I'm here Brody," her soft voice filled his dream and he smiled. But then became confused as he felt small hands on his shoulders shaking him. 


"Brody wake up!"  

Brody opened his eyes and there she was. Elizabeth. Her hair was blood free in the firelight. Her green eyes full of life and worry. He raised his hand to her cheek and she leaned her face against it as her eyes drifted closed momentarily.  

"You're alive," he whispered.  

She opened her eyes and covered his hand with hers, "Of course I'm alive. You saved me remember?"

 Brody pulled her into his arms and she willingly laid down beside him, resting her head against his chest. She could tell he was still more asleep than awake. She wondered what kind of horrible nightmare had caused the fear, sadness and panic that she had heard in his voice.  

Elizabeth listened to his heart, thundering beneath his ribs and she could feel his heat as she pressed her body against his.  

"You're sleeping with me tonight," he grumbled in his harsh demanding way and Elizabeth nodded and snuggled closer. She had never laid like this with a man before and his body felt rock hard and strong against hers. With his arm wrapped tight around her she felt safe, protected and warm.  

"Yes sir," she replied softly as she gazed up at his face. She realized his eyes were closed and he had already drifted back to sleep. "My pa said real love doesn't exist, Brody, but the longer I'm with you, the more I believe he was lying."

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Brody awoke slowly as the birds began singing their songs with the sunrise. He snuggled closer to the soft body in his arms and pressed his lips to her hair. His heart was lost to this woman. Whether he had wanted to ever fall in love or not, he was in deep. She had awakened something in him that had been dead a long time.... His heart. He loved making her smile, making her laugh, making her temper flare.

"Mmmm..." she moaned in her sleep and he felt himself grow hard as she threw her leg over his and he wondered what her dreams were of.  

"I'm in trouble," he whispered. He had no doubt that she desired him. The signs were plain to see. The way her eyes would darken, her pupils would dilate and the passionate flush that covered her face and neck. But did she love him?  

Love?

Why had the word love entered his mind? Did he love her? Of course he did. But loving and caring for people led to heartache. Hadn’t losing his family taught him that? Of course to feel her tender body pressed against his made every fear of being hurt seem worth it.

"Grant..." she whispered and she became restless next to him. It was as if cold water had just been poured over his head and he quickly moved away from her and walked over to the stream.

 Grant? Grant was the man she was dreaming about? Brody had been a fool to even think about falling in love with that woman. She was engaged after all. He crouched down and splashed water over his face and then began to stomp out what was left of the fire.  

"Good morning," Elizabeth's voice came from behind him.  

He could hear her standing up and stretching and he grunted in reply, "Get a drink and put some of that leftover meat in your pockets. We gotta try to find a homestead or something today so we can figure out where we are."  

Elizabeth shivered at the coldness in his voice. Was this the same man that had held her so tenderly all night? "Are you okay?" she asked softly.  

"Just fine." He took a drink of water, stuffed some snake in his pockets, grabbed the gun and then began walking giving Elizabeth no choice but to rush and grab some food before chasing after him.  

---

The sun was high in the bright blue expanse of sky above them and Elizabeth cursed its heat as it beat down on her. She could feel the sweat, plastering her shirt to her body and running between her breasts. Her hair was soaked with it and she kept wiping the burning droplets from her eyes. 	She had tried several times over the last few hours to make conversation with Brody but he didn't seem interested and she wondered at the change in him. He wasn't acting like himself. Even his posture and steps had changed. Gone was the confident stride with his shoulders and head held high. He was now walking like a man who had lost something important or suffered some huge defeat. His shoulders were slumped and his boots dragged the ground with every step. She wondered if it had something to do with the nightmare he'd had last night.

 Elizabeth was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize he'd stopped until she ran into his broad back. She stumbled backward and would have fallen if he hadn't grabbed her arm to steady her.  

"Thank you," she gasped.

 He just shrugged and let go of her, "We'll rest under those trees for a while. It's green over there and I'm guessing there's water of some kind." 	Elizabeth nodded and followed him to the grouping of green trees and bright grass. Sure enough there was a small pond, not the ideal water for drinking but it was better than dying of thirst. 	

"Why are you acting different today?" Elizabeth asked as they munched on the leftover snake and leaned against the trees they were sitting under.  

"What makes you think I'm acting different?"  

Elizabeth tilted her head, "You're more bristly and less arrogant today."

"Is that so?" he questioned dryly.  

"Are you angry with me or is this about the nightmare you had last night?"

"Nightmare?" he asked without looking at her. He pulled his knife from his boot and dipped it in the pond beside him before running it over his cheek to shave the hair away.  

"Yeah, the one that had you yelling my name," she replied and she saw the knife jump just a little and worried maybe he'd cut himself.  

"I'm fine. It was just a dream."  

"I died, didn't I?" she asked with a shiver.  

Brody wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her when he saw that shiver pass over her but he forced himself to stay where he was and continue shaving, "Don't worry Miss McCready, I'll get you back to your fiancé' safe and sound."  

"Fiancé'?" Elizabeth asked, raising a brow.  

"Did you forget about him already?" Brody asked trying to sound uninterested. "Grant, I think his name is. At least that's the name you called out while you were lying in my arms."  

"I said his name?" she asked.  

"Yep," he replied and she could hear the bitterness and jealousy in his tone.  

Elizabeth thought back to the dream she'd been having. It had started out as a good dream as Brody's big calloused hands had touched her body and his firm lips had kissed hers passionately, but that had quickly changed. Brody had become Grant and it had been his cold lips touching her. His soft hands trying to grope her through her clothes and she had been trying desperately to get away from him.  

"That wasn't....."  

He cut her off, "I really don't give a shit."

 Elizabeth saw that he already had his face nearly hair free and she wondered how he did that so quickly and without a mirror.  

"Yes you do," she replied with a faint smile, "You're jealous."  

His eyes met hers and flashed with anger, "I am not jealous."  

"Yes you are. You're jealous."  

"Over you?" Brody sneered. "Why the hell would any man get jealous of a pant wearing, cussing, dirty, improper woman like you? Why a man would have to be pretty damn desperate to get jealous over you."  

Elizabeth felt a pain so sharp in her chest it felt as if he had driven his knife into her heart. Tears threatened to spring into her eyes and she quickly blinked them away and rose to her feet.  

"Well if that's how you feel about me, Mr. Atkinson, then I see no reason why we should stay together. I'm fairly certain I can take care of myself out here and I don't need the help of some arrogant, stubborn, pain in the ass like you."

 Brody fought to keep his face free of emotion, "Fine." He tossed the gun at her feet and she picked it up.  

She waited for him to tell her not to leave. Waited for him to tell her he was sorry. Waited for him to give her one single reason to stay...... He didn't. She squared her shoulders, turned on her heel and walked away from him without letting a single tear slip down her cheek.  

---

Brody finished shaving his face and then rinsed it off in the stream. He was trying to convince himself that the sudden loneliness plaguing him had not been caused by Elizabeth walking away. She had walked away from him and hadn't shed a single tear. So much for thinking he meant something to the woman.  

Then he thought about the harsh words he'd spoken and mentally kicked himself. Of course she walked away from him! She was proud, headstrong and independent and after he'd spoken that way to her, he had known she'd take off. He blew out a breath and knew he had to go after her.  

Letting her wander out there alone and in harms way was simply not an option. He was about go after her when a gunshot filled the air, followed by the yipping and growling of coyotes and another gunshot. High pitched whines and growls and a feminine scream reached him and Brody took off running as fast as his long legs could carry him while praying to God to keep her safe until he got there and could take over the job.  

---

"Brody!" Elizabeth screamed desperately.  

She didn't know if he'd be able to hear her or not, or if he'd even care but she was going to die if someone didn't come. She had used all the bullets in the gun and five coyotes lay dead but five more were closing in. She was backed against a tree and swinging the gun like a club to try to keep them away but any moment now they would lunge at her and she would be helpless against them.  

Her worst fears came true as one of the coyotes lunged at her and just before its teeth clamped onto her face a whizzing sound passed by her and a knife sunk to its hilt in the side of the coyotes head. The coyote fell to the ground and Elizabeth turned to see Brody coming toward her like some kind of natural disaster wielding a thick stick as a club.  

He jumped between her and the coyotes and swung the stick, breaking one of the beasts ribs. The remaining coyotes quickly decided this meal was too dangerous and they ran off and out of sight.  

"Brody...." Elizabeth gasped and suddenly her tears wouldn't stay back. She prided herself on never crying but in that instant, all of her hurt, fear and relief surged at once and crying was the only thing she could do. 	She sunk to her knees and buried her face in her hands. She didn't realize that Brody had dropped to his own knees in front of her until his arms wrapped around her and pulled her tightly against his chest.  

"It's okay," he whispered soothingly. 	

"No, it's not," she managed to croak.  

One of his big hands closed around the back of her neck and the other stroked her hair, "Elizabeth, I didn't mean what I said back at the pond. Dammit, I don't even know why I said it. I ain't use to caring about anybody and so caring about you is new and I'm still trying to figure out what to do about it." Elizabeth buried her face deeper into his chest and cried harder.  

"When I said I wasn't jealous, I lied. Damn straight I'm jealous of the fact that you're engaged to a man that ain't me. Honestly the thought of him touching you fills me with a rage so damn big I'd like to kill something," Brody growled.  

"I'm not gonna marry him," Elizabeth replied against him. "I don't want to marry somebody that I don't love."  

Brody pulled her away from him and tilted her head up so he could look at her. He used his thumbs to clean the tears from her face, "You don't know how glad I am to hear that. But, what about the ranch?"  

Elizabeth shrugged and gave him a sad half smile, "Like you said, it's only dirt and cows, right?"  

"Oh cowgirl, I'm sorry your father is putting you through this. I promise when we get back I'll talk to him. I'll let him know you're more than capable of running that ranch without a husband."  

Brody might as well of slapped her in the face. Without a husband.... So he didn't want her to marry Grant but yet he didn't want to marry her.  

"We should get going," she said standing suddenly. "I'm sorry I wasted all the bullets."  

"Bullets that save your life aren't wasted," Brody countered.

 He stood and hugged her again, this time to reassure himself that he had made it in time and she was okay and whole. The feel of her body pressed against his caused his desire to rise but he fought to hold onto his self control. If he started with her now, he wouldn't stop until he'd made love to her and that wasn't something he wanted to do in a field full of dead coyotes.  

Brody pulled away, walked over to the coyote his knife had killed and pulled the knife from the beast's head before sticking it back in his boot.  

As they started walking again Elizabeth grew tired of silence, "What was your nightmare last night?" she asked as she looked at his broad back. 	He was once again walking with that confident, cocky step that he normally had. The walk of a man who knew he could take care of himself and anything that came along because he had already seen everything the world could throw at him.  

"It started with my family," Brody replied. He had never shared the story of what had happened to his family with anyone but he wanted to share it with her. If there was anyone that could help cure the heartache he'd held onto for so many years, it was this amazing woman.  

"Family?"  

"Yeah. Nine years ago the yanks came through and my pa made my brother Jacob and I take our two young sisters under the floorboards and hide them. The yanks killed my pa for no reason. He offered them food and they didn't even let him finish speaking before they put a bullet in him. Then they grabbed my two older sisters Catherine and Christine and my mama and..." Brody stopped speaking, the memory proving to be too hard to speak out loud and he felt Elizabeth's gentle hand on his shoulder and took strength from it.  

"Once the yanks were gone, Jacob and I came out with Susie and Sally and the yanks had killed our entire family. Jacob and I both changed in that moment. He became pa. He didn't want revenge, he just wanted to go on living peacefully and raise the girls. I wanted to kill every damn man I could find in a blue uniform. And I killed a lot of them. Jacob never forgave me. He said I abandoned them when they needed me. Even after the war ended I didn't go home. How could I? That wasn't home any more. That was what my dream started as and then it changed and lets just say I liked the new direction it took even less than the first."  

"I'm sorry you went through all that." Elizabeth offered.

 Brody shrugged and grabbed her hand in his as they walked. Elizabeth swore that somehow her hand must be attached to her heart, because she felt it contract and then fill with love as he took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb along her smooth skin.  

"The war was a bad place," he admitted.  

Elizabeth looked at his face. With it clean shaven the way it was now, the angles were even sharper, the scar more prominent on his cheek, "How did you get that?" she asked.  

His firm lips turned to a frown and he looked out over the grassy land, "In battle. I'd actually become friends with another boy. He was eighteen, a year old than me at the time,  and the whole idea of war was exciting for him. He was in it for fame and glory. He liked to laugh and I guess he reminded me a little of Jacob. We were crouched about ten feet from each other loading our rifles when a mortar fired and it landed right in his lap."

 Elizabeth gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, "But don't they explode?" she asked through her fingers and he nodded as his green eyes took on a haunted look.  

"Yeah. The only thing that saved me was that he threw himself over it. He sacrificed himself for me. He knew he was dying either way so I guess he figured there wasn't no sense in letting it take both of us," Brody ran his finger over his scar. "A small piece of shrapnel got my cheek is all."  

"And you try to say you're not tough," she teased, hoping to lighten the mood and take that haunted look away from him.  

"I ain't tough. Just lucky." He looked down at her and she saw something shining in his eyes. Something she had seen in her fathers eyes when he told her all those stories about him and her mother. It was love. Brody loved her.  

---

"Where the hell is my daughter?!" Ernest exclaimed.  

Thomas shifted his feet and twisted his hat in his hands, "We can't find a single sign of her or Brody, sir. We've searched all the fields. We've sent men to nearby towns. No one has seen them."

"I'll kill that Brody Atkinson when we find him! He better not have laid a single hand on my little girl!"  

"For what it's worth, sir, I don't think Brody would have hurt Miss McCready. He was awfully sweet on her. Maybe they ran away together."  

"Preposterous!" Grant exclaimed. "Why would she agree to marry me and then take off with that ruffian?"  

Thomas was confused. He had no idea what the hell them big words meant. Preposterous? Ruffian? Grant looked like a pissed off peacock trying to fluff his feathers.  

"It would make more sense then Brody kidnapping her, sir." Thomas insisted looking back at his boss.

"Where's Braxton?" Ernest demanded as his wheezing worsened. This stress was making him sicker by the minute.  

"Town," Thomas swallowed hard. "He's waiting for one of them to turn up. He said he'd come back to the ranch tomorrow night at the latest. He's hoping somebody in town will know something."  

"When they are found I want that kidnapping bastard brought to me and I want to take care of him myself!" Ernest hissed.  

Thomas tipped his head, "Yes, sir."  

Ernest pointed at the door, "Now get out!"  

 Thomas and Grant quickly left and once they were downstairs Thomas rounded on Grant, his brown eyes flashing with anger as he put his hat back on his sandy colored hair, "Brody would not have hurt her!" Thomas declared. "That man cares about her a hell of a lot more than you do."  

"What's that supposed to mean?" Grant demanded.  

"You haven't lifted a single finger to try to find her. You don't give a damn about Miss McCready. The rest of us are out busting our asses trying to find her and you just sit here and drink the bosses scotch and enjoy the cushy surroundings. You better believe when they get back I'll tell Miss McCready all about you and that the only reason you're here is for this ranch. She'll see through all your fancy clothes and pretty words for sure and you'll be lucky if Brody don't put a bullet between your eyes just for leading her on like that."  

Thomas turned and stormed from the house leaving Gavin standing there trembling with fear. He was afraid of Brody. There was something about that man that made it clear that he wasn't a man you wanted to cross. 	

Grant could only hope that Thomas was wrong and Elizabeth would still agree to marry him... He wanted this damn ranch.

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

The sound steadily running water reached Brody's ears about an hour before sunset and he took off running toward it, pulling Elizabeth, who was dead on her feet, along with him.  

"A river!" she exclaimed happily when she saw it. It was a good twenty feet wide and further down it became quite rough and fast moving but right in front of them it looked placid and deep, the perfect place for a bath. There were small oaks, sycamores and pines around them and bright wildflowers stuck out of the long grasses.  

"Looks like home for the night," Brody agreed.

 Elizabeth nodded and without either needing to say a word they set about gathering wood for the fire and grass for the bed, neither pretended to think that they'd need two beds tonight.  

"I'll go see if I can find us some food," Brody said once they had a small fire going.  

"Okay," she replied letting her gaze go to the river. "I'm gonna get a bath while you're gone."  

"No. Wait until I get back. I don't want you running around buck naked and have somebody come up on you alone."  

Elizabeth felt her temper flare at his commanding tone. Would it hurt the man to say please every now and then? "You're not my boss, Brody." she snapped, squaring her shoulders and jutting out her chin.  

 Brody stuck his thumbs in his belt loops, "Fine then. I'm sure whatever trail weary, woman deprived, outlaw that rides through here will just keep on his merry way and not bother you a bit if he see's you in all your glory, naked down there in that water." The thought of her naked in that water stirred his own passion and he turned quickly, "Do whatever you want, Miss McCready. I reckon you're the boss," he said without looking back.  

Elizabeth glared at his back until he disappeared over a small hill. That man was the single most bossy man she had ever met and, God help her, but she loved him anyway.  

She walked over to the waters edge and pulled off her boots and socks. She curled her nose at the sight of her sweaty, stinky feet. She rolled her pants up to just below her knees and walked out into the water, enjoying the cool feel of it against her overheated skin.

Elizabeth walked back to the bank and sat down on the grass. She dangled her feet in the water, enjoying the shade the trees provided and listening to the birds singing their last songs before sunset. She thought of her father and wondered how he was faring with her disappearance. Did he know that she and Brody had been kidnapped? Was anyone looking for them? She prayed that his health would hold up long enough for her to get home, even though she was going to break his heart when she arrived and told him that she wasn't marrying Grant.  

There was only one man in this world that she would ever marry and that was Brody Atkinson. Strong, stubborn, infuriating, but sometimes gentle and entertaining, Brody Atkinson.  

---

Brody might have spent thirty minutes chasing the rabbits around the field like a fool but victory had been his in the end and he was heading back to camp with two of them and a handful of wild onions for dinner and breakfast in the morning.  

He walked back to camp, not bothering to whistle a warning because he expected to find Elizabeth waiting on the bank for him and when he walked over the hill and saw her standing like some sort of goddess in the water, he froze. The sunset was behind her, illuminating her wet, naked body and making her seem to glow orange in its light as she stood hip deep in the water.  

Her long blond hair was wet and hanging long down her slender back. When she threw her head back and arched her body, causing her small, high breasts to rise, he stared hard at them and watched droplets of water run down those mounds and over her rosy pink nipples.  

All thoughts of self control and waiting until they were out of danger and in a proper bed disappeared from his mind as the rabbits and onions fell to the ground. Brody walked at a fast, steady pace to the waters edge. 	Elizabeth looked up and when her eyes fell on him she gasped and quickly crossed her arms over her chest, to hide her breasts from view. This simply pushed them up and he felt his mouth go dry at the sight of them swelling above her arms.  

He moved his gaze down her tight stomach, tiny waist and the feminine swell of her hips. He cursed the water when it stopped his gaze from seeing the triangle of curls between her thighs and her long legs.  

"Brody! Give me my clothes," Elizabeth squeaked.

 Brody shook his head, "Nope."  

"Brody...." she warned and then her eyes widened when he began to unbutton his dirty white shirt. "What are you doing?!"  

He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, "Taking a bath."

 Elizabeth could hear the deep, raspy quality of his voice and she could see the darkness in his eyes. She felt a flush start in her cheeks and spread down her neck and chest. She knew what he wanted and despite her fear that it would be as painful and scary as the first time she'd been taken, she wanted Brody too.  

She felt her pulse begin to race she took in the sight of his body. She had seen plenty of shirtless men working at the ranch but the sight of Brody was unlike anything she had ever seen.  He was all hard lines and sharp angles. There was a wildness and a ruggedness about him that made him look untamed and untamable with his long, brown hair, his sharp green eyes, the clearly defined muscles of his broad chest and flat stomach. His waist was lean and narrow and a dusting of brown hair covered his chest and formed a thin trial down to the waistband of his pants. Elizabeth blushed and bit her lips when she imagined what was beneath those pants.  

Elizabeth watched him pull off his boots and then she turned quickly when he began to undo his pants and Brody smiled at her innocence. He slid out of his pants, knowing that he was already hard for her. His blood was running so hot in his veins it felt like it was burning him alive. He stood on the bank for several more seconds, just watching her. The way she had turned had curved her graceful back and he could see the top of her tight, curved backside.  

Elizabeth turned her head to look back at him and her jaw dropped. She had never seen a completely naked man but she knew there wasn't a single man alive that would paint the picture that was Brody. His thighs were thick with muscle, his hips lean and when her eyes fell on the spot between his legs she felt a twinge of fear. Surely something 

that big would hurt her!

Brody made his way into the water and dove beneath it. Elizabeth waited with baited breath for him to resurface and when he did she gasped with surprise. He rose up less than a foot away from her and he tossed his hair back, causing droplets of water to fly through the air, turning orange, pink and red with the sunset.  

"Feel better?" she gasped, though her voice was barely more than a husky whisper as his heat and his power overwhelmed her.  

There was suddenly not enough oxygen to breath around them as the air itself seemed to crackle and pop with heat and fire. She wondered if Brody was feeling the same things. Instead of answering her, he just shook his head and kept that predatory gaze on her face. Suddenly she didn't feel like a tough cowgirl, she felt like a tiny mouse caught in the sights of a powerful eagle and she was helpless to avoid capture. 	

"This is better," he growled and he pulled her into his arms, pressing her body flush against his so that his hardness was nestled in her stomach and their hearts were thundering against each other's chests.  

"Brody, I...." She wanted to tell him she was afraid. She wanted to tell him that she couldn't do this but the words just wouldn't form on her tongue. She knew he must have seen the emotions in her eyes because his gaze suddenly softened and filled with a tenderness that she had never seen in them before. His rough and calloused hand became velvet as it brushed against her cheek and his lips were gentle when they came down against her own.  

Elizabeth had kissed before but those had been innocent pecks that were hardly more then simply friendly gestures. This was different. This kiss, though gentle, was full of fire and passion. It was clear that Brody was using everything he had to hold himself back. He was practically shaking with his restraint.  

Elizabeth threw her arms around his neck and locked her hands in his hair, pulling him closer. His teeth nipped at her lip and she wasn't sure what he wanted but she let him take the lead and he pushed her mouth open and tasted her with his tongue, igniting a flame deep in her abdomen that made her ache with wanting.... Her body wanted Brody, her heart wanted Brody, she wanted Brody.  

She wanted Brody more than she wanted to please her father. She wanted him more than the ranch, more than the money, more than the legacy her father had built. Her father's rules be damned, Brody had her heart and now she was going to give him her body and soul. She just prayed he wouldn't break any of those three things.  

"I want you, Elizabeth." Brody growled as he pulled away and stood stone still, his breathing harsh.  

"You've got me, Brody. You've got all of me," she replied.  

She heard him let out a sigh of relief and then he let go of the self control he'd been holding onto. His mouth became a fiery brand as it came back to hers and seared her with its mark. He moved away from her mouth, along her jaw and down her neck, feeling her tremble beneath him. His finger tips left fiery trails along her skin as they moved down her shoulder, along her waist, her hips and then back up to cup her small breasts.  

"So perfect," he whispered and he moved his lips to one of her rosy nipples causing her to cry out and cling to him as her knees buckled. Never had she imagined that a mans mouth and hands could cause this sort of pleasure to course through her body. Then she realized that not any man could, just Brody. She was aching for more and Brody seemed to read her mind as he moved his mouth back to hers.  

She felt herself grow brave and lowered a trembling hand to his hardness. She had never touched a man in this way before and she was shocked by how tight and hard it felt. No wonder the man looked as if he was in pain. She gripped it in her hand and he nodded as his jaw tensed and his eyes drifted closed. She didn't know what she was supposed to do now and his hand closed around hers and guided her up and down.  

Elizabeth enjoyed hearing him moan and more than once her name passed through his lips. Once she had the rhythm down she felt him remove his hand from hers as he crushed his lips against hers once more. She kept pleasuring him with her hand and then nearly let out a scream when she felt his fingers on the soft triangle of wet curls between her legs.  

Her first thought was 

‘will he hurt me?’ . It had hurt so badly when that other man had taken her. But then she called herself a crazy fool and welcomed his touch. This was Brody. He might be arrogant, rude and bossy but he would never hurt her. She felt as if her body was going to burst into flames as his fingers teased and stroked her and then she forgot all about pleasuring him as she clung to his shoulders and threw her head back, angling her hips closer to him.

"I wanted to go slow, Elizabeth, but I need you now," Brody growled, his voice was tight and barely controlled.  

Elizabeth looked in his eyes and nodded, "I need you too." Her body was screaming for more. More. More. More. He put his hands on her hips and lifted her into the air. She wrapped her legs around his waist and then cried his name when she felt the length of him slide into her, stretching and filling her to the max.  

They were still for several long moments. Elizabeth clung to him with her face buried against his neck and Brody ran his hands up and down her back. He lowered his hands to her backside, gripping her tightly and then he began to move. He pulled nearly all the way out of her and she whimpered in protest just before he thrust back in, even deeper than before.

Elizabeth kissed him hungrily as the pace quickened. She felt the pleasure building and building as the cool water splashed against their bodies. Their moans mingled in the darkening night air and both were deaf and blind to anything but each other.  

Brody had never made love like this before. Always before Elizabeth, it had been whores at the whorehouse that had satisfied his needs and he had thought that was good enough. But now..... Now he knew he'd never touch another woman again. This was his woman. Her body was made for his and they fit together perfectly. Elizabeth McCready was all he wanted forever.  

He heard her moans become more urgent and he knew she was almost to her peak. He quickened the pace and just as she cried out and threw her head back, he felt his own release and he yelled her name as his body stiffened and wave after wave of pleasure coursed through him.  

Her head fell on his shoulder and her warm breath teased his skin as they stayed wrapped together in the water.  

"I had no idea....." she whispered and Brody smiled.  

"Me either," he replied honestly as he kissed her wet hair.  

He carried her up the bank and laid her on the grass bed before laying on his back beside her. She turned on her side and curled up against him, laying her head on his chest and listening to his heart beating steadily beneath his ribs.  

"Brody, I..." she stopped, suddenly afraid to say the words that were in her heart.

 He ran his fingers along her back and over the swell of her hip, "What is it?"  

"I'm hungry," she said, feeling like a coward for not telling him that she loved him like she had wanted to. What if she told him and he didn't say it back? What if she was wrong about the look she saw in his eyes and this was just rutting to him? Her pride and her heart couldn't take his rejection.  

"Worked up an appetite, huh?" he teased and she heard him smile. 	Elizabeth nodded weakly against his chest and he kissed her hair before moving away from her and standing up. She watched him walk over toward the bank and she enjoyed the view of his lean legs and tight backside as he picked up his dirty pants and pulled them on.  

He walked barefoot a little ways up the small hill and her eyes widened when he picked up two rabbits by their ears and a handful of wild onions.  

"Rabbits?" she asked as he walked closer.  

He nodded, though thinking hard enough to reply was damn near impossible with her naked body curled up on the grass like it was.  

"Yeah," he responded gruffly.  

Elizabeth realized she was still naked and suddenly felt shy. She quickly stood and walked over to her clothes, pulling everything on but her socks and boots and walking barefoot back to the campfire where he was already skinning his catch.  

"How did you manage to get rabbits? You don't even have a gun or traps."  

"I got hands, don't I?" he replied and she was sure her jaw dropped.  

"You caught those rabbits with your bare hands?" she demanded and he shook his head.  

"No, you crazy woman, that's impossible. First I stunned 'em with a rock and then I caught them."  

"You are something else." she replied and he smiled.  

"Coming from you, Elizabeth, I'll take that as one heck of a compliment."  

Their eyes met and there was a warmth and softness in his eyes that took her breath away. Where did mean Brody go? This Brody was tender and gentle and without the single sign of a bristle.  

"I do wanna know something though," he said, turning his attention back to the rabbits.	

"What?"  

"Why in the hell did you get naked and get in that water while I was gone when I specifically told you to wait until I got back?"  

 There was bristly, bossy, arrogant Brody, back in full force. But this time instead of getting angry it made her smile. Her body was still humming from his love making, making anger impossible.  

"Because I got tired of waiting on you to get back. I figured I'd have enough time to get a bath and be dressed before you got back. Thank goodness I was wrong," she added with a wink.

 Brody shook his head as he set up some sticks to cook the meat on, "You'll be the death of me, you stubborn woman," he said with exasperation. "Will there ever come a day when you just do as I say?"  

"No," she replied honestly. "I ain't the kind of woman that can be controlled by a man, no matter how tough and commanding he might be.  You're free to find you a more agreeable woman if that would suit you better."  

Brody shook his head and grabbed her by her chin to her pull her face close to his, "I like the know it all, pain in the ass, little woman I got right now just fine." He kissed her nose and then let her go and she felt herself glowing with happiness. "Now let me get this food ready so we can take care of that stomach of yours."  

"Brody, how is your arm?" Elizabeth asked after he had the meat cooking over the fire. He looked down at the bandana tied around him and shrugged.  

"Fine."  

"Does it hurt?" she asked.  

He raised a brow, "I got shot, cowgirl. It hurts."  

Elizabeth reached for the bandana, "Let me look at it."  

 He shook his head and pulled his arm away, "It's fine, woman. It's barely more than a flesh wound and it smells fine. It ain't infected or nothing."  

"I just want to take care of you," Elizabeth urged, trying to reach for his arm again.  

"Dammit, Elizabeth, I've been taking care of myself for nine years! I sure as hell don't need you to do it for me now," he replied stubbornly. 	Elizabeth sat back and folded her arms in her lap, "Fine, stubborn ass, but when you get gangrene and your arm rots off, don't be asking me to help you button your pants because 

you can take care of yourself.“

"Finally, she listens to something I say," he mumbled with a heaven bound gaze.  

Elizabeth glared at him and picked up one of the rabbit bones, tossing it at him and hitting him in the chest, "Shut-up," she grumbled and his deep, rich laughter filled the night.  

---

Brody waited until Elizabeth was sound asleep against him before slipping silently from the bed and walking to the other side of the fire. He untied the bandana from his arm and looked down at the bright red, swollen skin. He had lied to her about not being infected. But what good would it have done to let her look at the wound and see that it was nasty? All that would have done was make her worry about him and he didn't want her worrying over him.  

He knew what had to be done and as much he wished he had some whiskey to numb his brain with before he did it they were fresh out. Brody grabbed his bandana and carried it down to the water, getting it thoroughly wet before carrying it back to the fire.   

He pulled his knife from his boot and stuck it in the flames to sterilize it before holding it in his left hand and sinking it into his wound. Sweat popped out on his forehead and his veins and muscles bulged as he fought the urge to yell out in pain. He methodically cut away every bit of infected flesh from the inside of the wound. He then reheated his knife, until the metal was glowing red and orange and he took a deep breath before pressing the flat side of the knife tight against his wound.  

He did this to both sides of his arm and then sat there breathing harshly as he looked at his now closed up wound. The threat of infection was gone and he could handle pain. It would leave one hell of a scar but at least it wasn't going to continue to rot and cause him to lose his arm, or his life. He tied the wet bandana back around his arm and then went back to Elizabeth.  

She was lying on her side and he curled up to her back, wrapping her tight against him. The pain seemed to fade when she was against him like this and he kissed her soft hair and smiled.  

"I need you more than you know, Miss McCready." Brody heard her sigh with contentment as she snuggled closer against him and continued sleeping.

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

"I say we stay here for the day and rest," Elizabeth said as she pressed her lips against Brody's neck and felt his naked body tremble just a little against her own.  

"I say that sounds good since some little lady had me up half the night," he agreed.  

 Elizabeth smiled against his skin, "I didn't hear you complaining."  

"No ma'am. A man would have to be a fool to complain about something like that."  

Elizabeth smiled and looked around them at the peaceful morning scenery. The sun was already shining hotly and she knew it was going to be even hotter today than it had been yesterday.  

"I think we should at least put our britches on. I'd hate to have someone ride in and be caught with my pants down," Brody noted. 	Elizabeth nodded in agreement and they both stood and began to pull on their clothes. She saw Brody wince as he pulled on his shirt and she grabbed the bandana and pulled it off his arm before he had the chance to pull away.  

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed when she saw the burnt and charred skin.  

"Damn you, woman, give me that back." he grumbled as he reached for the bandana.  

"No," she put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "What the hell did you do to your arm?"  

"Don't tell me you've never heard of burning a wound closed to prevent infection," he replied as he buttoned his shirt.  

Elizabeth realized that it looked like he'd branded himself with his knife blade. The scar was going to be bad but somehow it just added to his rugged handsomeness.  

"Of course I've heard of it. I've even done it before... to cattle! Not to a man! And I've certainly never seen a man do that to himself!"  

"I've seen men get their arms blown off and shove the stump into a hot cooking stove to sear it closed," Brody snapped.  

Elizabeth felt vomit rise and swallowed it back down, "That's disgusting."  

Brody shrugged, "That's life. Now I don't have to worry about infection and bleeding anymore."  

"I thought it wasn't bleeding or infected. That's what you told me yesterday."  

Brody shrugged, "I lied," he said as he built the fire up to reheat the rabbit meat.  

"Brody Atkinson! You better not lie to me again. If this is gonna work out then you gotta tell me the truth!"  

"If what's gonna work out?" Brody demanded, stepping closer to her. 	Elizabeth pointed back and forth between them, "This," she said and she felt her breath catch in her chest as he stepped closer still. His shirt was only half buttoned and the tan skin of his chest was gleaming in the sunshine, adding to his untamed look.  

"So now you're telling me what has to be done in order for me to be with you?" he asked and Elizabeth couldn't tell if he was really angry or just teasing her.  

She squared her shoulders and stuck out her chin, "Yes."  

 Brody smiled suddenly and his green eyes lit with amusement, "Yes ma'am. You are the boss after all." He kissed her softly, "Now let's eat because I'm gonna need my energy if I'm gonna be here with you all day." 	He reached around and gave her butt a squeeze causing her to squeal with surprise and slap his arm. "Just so you know, I would have kicked any other man in the family jewels for that!" she said and he laughed as he turned and checked on the meat.  

"I'll have you know that I'll put a bullet in any man that tries to touch you like that. You're mine."  

"I'm not a possession, Brody." Elizabeth replied as he handed her a piece of the hot meat and she held it gingerly between her fingers.  

Brody nodded, "Sure you are." he replied and then he shrugged. "For that matter, I am too, because as far as I can see, I'm yours."  

---

"Tomorrow we'll find a homestead. I saw some broken fences when I was getting the rabbits last night so there has to something somewhere. We'll just follow the fence line 'til we find it," Brody said as he and Elizabeth sat together under the shade of the oak tree and munched on the fish he'd managed to catch while using his shirt as a net.

"I sure am glad I got kidnapped with you, Brody. I'd have never stood a chance out here alone."  

"You're pretty tough, you'd have figured something out," Brody replied.  

The two of them had spent the day making love, learning about each other and talking. They had laughed and joked. He had told her about his life growing up poor on a farm in Virginia and she had told him about growing up and trying to prove herself at the ranch.  

She had learned that he loved doing everything he could to raise her temper and he had learned that she took the bait every time. Now it was a few hours before sunset and she was sitting on his lap as they ate their dinner and watched the peaceful river.  

"Thank you, Brody," Elizabeth said quietly.

 Brody raised a brow as he swallowed the last of his food and looked into her eyes, "For what?"  

"For saving me. For taking care of me. For showing me that I can't marry Grant and that there are things more important than that ranch."  

"I did all that, huh?" Brody asked smoothing her hair from her face. She had it down and it hung in beautiful golden waves that sparkled in the sunshine.   

She nodded and then bit her lips and ran her fingers over the hard curves of his chest, "And for showing me that my father was lying."  

"About?"  

"True love being a lie. I love you, Brody. I've only known you a few weeks but you are everything I ever wanted in a man and more."  

Brody sat there in silence and Elizabeth felt her heart fall as she continued to stare at his chest and fight back her tears of rejection.  

"Elizabeth, I'm not the kind of man you deserve. I can't give you anything. I don't have a cent to my name. Any money I did make over the last nine years went to my brother and sisters. I can't give you a home, I can't offer you land. I've killed people and not just in uniform. I was in a bad place for a long time and I've ended men's lives over things that I'm ashamed of now. I have a horrible temper, no patience and no real friends or family that'll help us out. You deserve a hell of a lot better than me." 	Elizabeth tried desperately to fight the tears but a lone droplet escaped from behind her lashes and rolled down her lightly freckled cheek. Brody saw it and felt his heart break, "Why are you crying?"  

"You don't love me," she whispered. "Why would you make love to me out here if you didn't love me? Or was this just rutting to you?" she demanded, her temper coming out to disguise her broken heart.  

"What the hell are you talking about? If you don't know I love you then you aren't half as smart as you think you are!"  

Elizabeth ignored the rough tone of his voice and instead focused on his words, "You love me?"  

"Of course I love you. I never thought I'd ever find a single woman who would make me think about settling down but after taking one look at you in them tight little trousers, I knew I was in trouble."  

"Oh Brody...." She pressed her lips to his and lost herself. She had meant for it to be a soft, gentle kiss but he quickly deepened it. Elizabeth couldn't believe how much she loved this man. His words weren't poetry but they filled her heart like no amount of Shakespeare ever could.  

Brody moved his hand to stroke her breast, through the fabric of her shirt and Elizabeth moaned and leaned into him. They were becoming lost in one another, oblivious to all around them when the sound of a horse whinnying reached Brody's ears. Reacting on instinct alone Brody threw her to the ground and jumped to his feet, placing his body between hers and the man that had just rode over the hillside.  

"Hello the camp!" the man called and then he held his hands up to signal his innocence. "I didn't mean to scare ya none. You're on my land here and I was out checking my fences and saw the smoke from your fire. You two look like you could use some help," he said looking at their filthy clothes and lack of horses.  

Elizabeth stood up and nodded as she brushed the dirt from herself and threw Brody a look that clearly said 

‘calm the hell down’ . “We could use a change of clothes.” she replied.

"Well come on. I'll lead you all to my house, it won't take us but an hour to get there." The man turned on his horse and seemed to be waiting for them to catch up to him.  

"Do you think we can trust him?" Elizabeth whispered as she and Brody started walking toward him.  

Brody shrugged, "We don't have much of a choice."  

"Are you okay with asking him for help?" she asked.

 He raised his brow, "Yeah, why?"  

"It's just that he's colored and you were a rebel soldier....." Elizabeth stopped speaking when Brody shook his head.  

"I already told you why I fought in that war and it didn't have nothing to do with black and white. I've met men of every color, cowgirl, and I've learned that you can't judge a man by the color of his skin. Evil men come in every color just the same as good men do."  

---

Braxton sat in the dusty saloon and sipped at his whiskey as he surveyed the room with watchful eyes. His gaze went to the swinging doors as they swung open and the man he'd been waiting for walked in. Braxton raised his hand to signal the man and he nodded. He grabbed a beer off a passing saloon girls tray and walked to the back table in the dark corner that Braxton was sitting in.  

"Is it done?" Braxton asked, before spitting a stream of tobacco into the  copper spittoon by his feet.  

The man nodded and laid two gun belts and revolvers on the table, "It's done." he replied. Braxton smiled with victory. "But you could have warned us that that man was going to be with her. That could have been trouble."  

"I didn't know," Braxton replied with a shrug. "Besides one man against four shouldn't have been much of a fight."  

"It wasn't," the man replied before taking a swig of his beer. Braxton didn't know the mans name, same as the man didn't know his name. They both figured it was better that way.  

"Where's the other men?" Braxton asked.  

"Outside of town, at camp."  

Braxton nodded as he pulled the money for the job from his pocket and placed it in the man's hand, "Now get out of here and remember that we never met." Braxton said and the man nodded, downed the rest of his beer and then walked out of the saloon.

Braxton looked down at the guns on the table. That was definitely Elizabeth's small .38 revolver. He smiled when he saw Brody's gun. It was a 1861 Colt Army revolver. It was fourteen inches long and .44 caliber. This was a gun made for killing a man. The metal was blued from use and the wooden handles were scarred and worn. There was a rebel flag carved on the side of the handle. It looked like it had taken a long time to do and the details were perfect. The gun belt was too small for Braxton but he pulled his own gun out of his holster and put the .44 in its place. 	

Braxton smiled, "Thanks for the new gun, Brody."

 Victory was his. Elizabeth was dead which meant that she couldn't marry Grant and Ernest couldn't leave the ranch to her. Braxton would get the ranch soon, when the old man finally croaked and then he wouldn't have to pretend to love that fat, sack of wrinkles, Anita. He shivered as he thought about all the times he'd been forced to touch her to keep up the act. But she had been a vital part of his plan. Supplying him with information about what was going on inside the house between father and daughter.  

He walked out of the saloon and into the night feeling very proud of himself. His dream of owning that ranch was gonna come true after all and as he jumped up on his horse and started back to tell poor Ernest that he couldn't find a sign of his precious little girl, he couldn't seem to wipe the happy grin from his face.

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

"I'm telling you right now that Brody didn't kidnap that woman! If they left together it was because she wanted to go with him. Hell we don't even know for sure that they left together. Maybe Brody just rode on out of here, he didn't seem like the kind that sticks to one place too long and maybe somebody else took Miss McCready." Thomas said as the hands, except for Braxton who hadn't made it back from town yet, sat in the bunkhouse.

"You been singing Brody's praises since the man came to the ranch," Frank said as he whittled at a stick with his knife. "You sweet on the man or something?"

 Thomas sat up straight on his bed and squared his shoulder, "Hell no. I ain't the type of man that gets sweet on another man." he spat defensively. "But he ain't a kidnapper the way Grant keeps preaching to the boss."  

"I always liked the man. He was the only one of you young bastards that would eat my cooking without complaining," Cookie grumbled as he sat on his bed, leaned against the wall, with his legs stretched out and crossed. He had one of the ranch dogs sitting on the bed with him and was scratching the mutts ears.  

"Something isn't right about all of this," Thomas insisted as he relaxed against the wall once again. "I think somebody on the ranch had something to do with their disappearances. Hell all of Brody's stuff is still here," he added, nodding over at Brody's empty bed and the bag sticking out from underneath it.  

"Who the hell would have wanted something to happen to Miss McCready? I mean sure she might be the ice queen, slave driver but I sure as hell didn't do nothing to her," Wendell said from where he lay on his bed with his arms crossed over his face.  

"I've heard some things," Thomas admitted. "Unless Miss McCready marries Grant, someone else gets this ranch. Somebody that the boss trusts. Now I ain't heard no names but there's only one man that's been here since the boss started this ranch and that's Braxton."  

"Quit talking about stuff you don't know nothing about." Braxton's voice came from the bunkhouse door and Thomas turned and grinned like a cat caught in the cream.  

"Where ya been Braxton?" Frank asked.

"Town. Looking for any sign of Elizabeth. Couldn't find any of course," Braxton replied as he took off his gun belt and tossed it on the table beside Thomas, the two of them bunked side by side.  

"That's funny because Thomas here seems to think you had Miss McCready and Brody done away with," Frank said with a chuckle.  

Braxton threw Thomas a sharp look, "The boy needs to learn to watch his mouth."  

Thomas could hear the threat in his voice. Thomas wasn't afraid of Braxton but he was afraid of having all the ranch hands gun for him. He knew Braxton had to have something to do with Elizabeth and Brody being gone but he also knew that as the youngest here, the other hands would not be loyal to him. They'd be loyal to Braxton.  

"Yes sir," Thomas replied, though the lack of respect was plain in his voice. Braxton went about pulling off his vest and chaps and Thomas's eyes were drawn to the gun on the table. He recognized the .44 Caliber army revolver with the rebel flag on the handle. That was Brody's gun.  

How in the hell did Braxton end up with Brody's gun? Brody wouldn't give up his gun unless..... Thomas's eyes narrowed. Braxton must have killed Brody and if Brody was dead then that met that Elizabeth might just be dead too. It all made sense now. Braxton must be the man that would get the ranch if Mr. McCready died before Elizabeth married.  

Thomas stood suddenly and strode out of the bunkhouse. He walked back behind the main house and saw a figure standing next to the old oak tree. Judging by the shape and size of the body, he knew he was Anita. He was about to say hello when he heard footsteps coming behind him and quickly ducked behind the shed.  

Braxton walked past him, not seeing him in the darkness, and walked over to Anita who threw her arms around him and kissed him deeply. Thomas scratched his head. Since when were Braxton and Anita an item? As far as Thomas knew the whorehouse was still Braxton's favorite stop in town, after the saloon of course.  

"I have good news and bad news, Anita," Braxton whispered and Thomas strained to hear him.  

"What?" Anita asked.  

"The good news is that the ranch will be ours just as soon as the old man dies. The bad news is that Elizabeth fought against the men that took her and they were forced to kill her, and Brody as well."  

Anita gasped in shock. She clung to Braxton's shirt and sobbed into his chest, "This will break Ernest's heart," she said after several long minutes of crying.  

"He can't know," Braxton warned harshly. "He would blame me and I would be hung for sure. As far as anyone needs to know she was kidnapped by Brody."  

"I hate that she was killed, Braxton. I raised that girl from a baby.... I don't blame you though. I know you're just doing what is best for us."  

"Always," Braxton replied, running his hand over her cheek. "Now get back in the house. It won't be much longer now before we're together all the time, dear." They shared one last kiss and Anita walked into the house. 	Thomas couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Braxton had had Brody and Elizabeth killed just so he could have the ranch and somehow Anita was in on it! Thomas was about to slip back through the shadows and return to the bunkhouse when another figure stepped outside and approached Braxton under the tree.  

"You and I have a bit of a problem," Grant said in his soft, cultured voice.  

"No, we don't. I'll just kill you for eavesdropping," Braxton replied, his voice like ice.  

"No, you won't. You don't want another murder charge hanging over your head," Grant sounded quite sure of himself and not at all afraid. "I really did want that woman as my own because she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. I guess I can live without her and keep my mouth closed about what I overheard tonight, 

if you give me something in return.“

"What?" Braxton asked impatiently.  

"I don't care anything about running this ranch. I hate cows and I hate this Texas heat. I have contacts with the railroad and I happen to know that in about a years time they'll be coming through here and buying some of this land for their lines. When Ernest McCready dies and you get the ranch, I want you to give that section of land to me so that I can sell it to the railroad when the time comes. It will still leave you with more than enough room to run your ranch."  

"I ain't much for making deals with city slickers."  

"Well then don't think of me as a city slicker, cowpoke. Think of me as a business partner. A business partner who will go to your boss and sing like a canary if you don't do what I want." 	

The two men stared hard at each other for several tense seconds and finally Braxton nodded, "Fine. But you have to stay here and keep up the image of a grieving fiancé praying that his woman is going to show up at home safe and sound any day."  

"That sounds like a plan," Grant agreed. The two men shook hands and then both of them walked away. Grant to the house and Braxton to the bunkhouse.  

Thomas shook his head, not believing what he'd just heard. There wasn't anything he could do but pretend he'd never heard anything. Brody and Elizabeth were already dead and nothing he did was going to change that.  

Thomas was going to miss Brody. He had looked up to him and admired the man's grit. He was going to miss Elizabeth too. She might have been mean and bossy most of the time but she'd seemed like an alright woman. He stood up and slowly made his way back to the bunkhouse, knowing it was going to be hard to look at Braxton, knowing what the man was responsible for.

---

"This is home," the landowner said as he jumped off his horse beside a dilapidated old barn.  

Elizabeth looked at the rundown cabin and the hungry looking cows and horses in the corrals beside the barn. This man and his family were clearly struggling. She looked at the man, who she'd learned was named George on the way to the house. He was tall but his back was slightly stooped. His face looked like burnt leather and it was full of lines and wrinkles. His hair was snow white atop his head, contrasting with the darkness of his skin. He had a friendly smile, that was missing several teeth, and expressive brown eyes.  

"Looks good to me," Brody said.

 Elizabeth nodded. Her feet were killing her, her legs felt like she'd beaten them with a stick and all she wanted to do was sit on a soft sofa and stay there for several days.  

"Come on in then," George urged as he hitched the horse. "My wife passed away about a year ago but my daughter and son-in-law live here with me. She should have something cooked up for supper and we can get you some hot water for a bath and some clean clothes for you folks."  

Elizabeth and Brody followed him into the small but tidy three room cabin. The living area and kitchen were all made together. A small brown sofa with a bright blue and white checked blanket covering it, and a small armchair were next to a burning fireplace and there was a scarred up oak table with four chairs in the kitchen area. The smell of fresh baked bread and cherry pie filled their nostrils and both Elizabeth and Brody began to drool.  

"Hi papa, who are these folks?" A woman asked as she wiped her hands on her stained up yellow apron and stepped away from the counter. She was short and petite with flawless dark skin, big brown eyes and her hair pulled back in a bun. Her gingham dress was brown and worn and she looked tired but friendly.   

"This is Elizabeth and Brody. I found 'em camped out over in the south pasture. They didn't have no horses or supplies so I told 'em they could come here."  

"We're always willin' to help those that need it," she agreed. She reached her hand out and shook both Brody's and Elizabeth's. "My name's Carol Anne. And this is my husband Charlie," she pointed at the man sitting at the table eating ham and potatoes and he smiled upon standing up.  

"Nice to meet you folks."  

Elizabeth had never seen a man so tall and skinny. He had to be close to seven feet tall and his hand was three times larger than hers as he gripped it in a firm handshake. His eyes were black and when he smiled his bright white teeth seemed to glow next to his dark as night skin.  

"Where are our manners?!" Carol Anne exclaimed. "You two must be tired and starving. Sit down. Sit down and I'll get you something to eat!" Brody and Elizabeth sat down at the table and within moments Carol Anne had two steaming plates of ham, potatoes, bread and fresh greens in front of them and they happily dug in.  

Charlie chuckled, "Looks like you and your wife was hungry."   

"I'm not his wife," Elizabeth replied, before taking a sip of the tea Carol Anne had set in front of her.  

"Not yet," Brody added pointedly. Elizabeth smiled and felt a blush rise on her cheeks as she picked her fork back up.  

"So what brought you guys to my property with no horses or supplies?" George asked and Brody launched into a short, undetailed story of how they were ambushed, kidnapped and left for dead and how they'd been wandering for three days.

"You're Elizabeth McCready?!" Carol Anne exclaimed. "Papa, them folks that stopped by was looking for her! They said that Brody kidnapped her."  

"Is that what everyone thinks?!" Elizabeth exclaimed, slamming her fork down, "That's ridiculous."  

"Calm down," Brody said shaking his head. "Of course that's what everyone thinks. We'll just tell 'em different once we get back." Elizabeth was still angry that anyone could think something so bad of Brody but she bit her tongue and went back to eating her dinner.  

"You're only about a day and a half ride away from Bakerstown." Charlie said matter of factly.  

"Bakerstown is only an hour from the ranch!" Elizabeth said happily. "We're almost home!" Brody didn't bother telling her that that ranch would never be the home she remembered again. Not if his hunch about Braxton and Anita was correct.  

"From the way them men talked, you guys better get going first thing in the morning. They said your pa only had a couple more days at the most," Carol Anne added and Elizabeth stiffened.

 Brody glanced at her from the corner of his eye. He could see the sadness in her eyes, the stubborn set of her jaw and the way she squared her shoulders as if to fight off the pain alone. He didn't want to embarrass her by taking her hand where everyone could see, he knew she had a lot of pride in being strong, so instead he reached his hand under the table and gave her knee a gentle squeeze, just to let her know that she wasn't alone anymore.  

Carol Anne bit her lip, "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."   

"It's okay," Elizabeth assured her while staring down at the food left on her plate. "My pa's been sick for a while."  

"Carol Anne, go get them both some fresh clothes laid out on my bed. They can use the water you had ready for me and take themselves a bath," George wrinkled his nose as he looked at them, "They need one worse than I do." He gave a good natured laugh that had both Brody and Elizabeth smiling.  

Carol Anne rose from the table to do as her father asked and Charlie left as well, saying he needed to feed the cows. This left George, Brody and Elizabeth alone at the small kitchen table.  

"I hate to be nosy, and you can tell me to mind my own business if'n that's what you want to do, but why ain't you folks married yet? You look to me like two people in love if I've ever seen 'em."  

Brody and Elizabeth looked at each other and then back at George., "We do?" Elizabeth asked.  

George nodded, "Go ahead," he said to Brody, who was holding up a cigarette questioningly and Brody quickly lit a match and took a long puff. "Yeah, you see I know a thing or two about folks in love. I've married my fair share of 'em."  

"You're a preacher?" Elizabeth asked with disbelief.  

"Yep. I tried to start me a church out here but most folks don't wanna hear the word of God, especially when it comes from a colored man."  

"People are foolish," Elizabeth stated causing George to chuckle.

 Brody nodded, "Well ya see George, my thick headed backside didn't realize that I wanted to marry the girl until just a few days ago and I've been too busy keeping us alive to hunt down a preacher," Brody informed the man with a grin.

"A few days?" Elizabeth gasped and Brody nodded but didn't elaborate on exactly when the moment was that he realized he wanted to marry her.

"Well it just so happens that a preacher man hunted you down. So what do ya say? I can write out a paper, sign my name, my daughter and son in law can be witnesses and we can get you folks hitched before the night's out."  

Elizabeth sat there in wide-eyed shock and she looked over at Brody to see if he was as shocked as she was but instead he was smiling at her with a confidence and sureness in his eyes that took her breath away.  

"What do you say Miss McCready? Are you ready to be Mrs. Atkinson?"  

"How about we make you Mr. McCready?" she countered and he shook his head.  

"This is one time I'm not backing down, boss. You might be stubborn as hell and if you wanna marry me, I won't ask you to change a single damn thing about yourself, except for your name. I like the rest just fine." 	Elizabeth smiled at George, "What kind of woman could say no to something as simple as that?" she asked and finally Brody looked surprised.  

"Really? You really wanna marry me?"  

"Yes, Brody. I know you said you don't have anything to offer but everything you have given me so far is all I need." Brody raised a brow suggestively and Elizabeth rolled her eyes, even as her body heated when memories of the day of lovemaking they'd just shared flashed through her mind, "Love, Brody, I meant love."

 Brody grinned, "Yeah that's what I thought."  

"Well go get cleaned up then kids," George said, smiling happily as Carol Anne walked back into the room. "These two are getting married here tonight," he told his daughter and she smiled and clapped with so much happiness it was as if she'd known Elizabeth and Brody their whole lives instead of thirty minutes.  

"Well let's go clean up then, Miss McCready. A man's gotta look nice before he heads to the gallows," Brody intoned with a sigh.  

Elizabeth glared at him and slapped him playfully as he stood up and walked toward the bedroom Carol Anne had come out of.  

"Aren't you gonna help pull out her chair?" George asked as Elizabeth pushed her chair back and stood up.  

Brody shrugged, "What for? She's got arms and legs that work just fine."  

Elizabeth smiled. God had finally given her a man who understood she could take care of herself. Even though she had no doubt he would give his life to protect her without a second thought.

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

"Last chance to back out, Mr. Atkinson," Elizabeth warned as she pulled on the simple, light blue cotton, short sleeved dress that Carol Anne had laid out for her. Nerves were dancing around in her stomach and disbelief filled her mind. This was happening so fast and so sudden that she couldn't help but think that at any moment Brody was going to point at her, laugh about her foolishness at thinking he'd really want to marry her and then walk away.  

Brody finished buttoning the black vest over his white shirt and looked down at the bottoms of the pants, that were pooling around his ankles because Charlie was so much taller than he was, "I can honestly say I've never had this problem before." he said pointing down at his feet, hidden beneath the folds of fabric.  

Brody was nervous as hell and nervousness was not something he knew how to deal with. Why in the hell did this amazing woman want to marry him? He had nothing to offer her and he had not lived the last nine years as a good man. Surely she would change her mind and laugh in his face for thinking she'd ever settle down with the likes of him.  

He spared a quick glance in her direction and saw that she looked just as nervous as he felt as she chewed on her lips and smoothed her hands over the blue dress. The dress was tight up top and hugged her breasts before the simple fabric flared slightly at the waist and fell to her ankles. Elizabeth was beautiful.  She began to braid her hair and Brody saw her hands were shaking. He kicked himself for being an idiot. They were getting ready to get married and yet he still hadn't told her just what she meant to him. He hadn't told her why he loved her.  

Brody had worked so hard for the last nine years to never show his emotions that he had forgotten how to open himself back up.. Until now. He squared his shoulders and crossed the room in two long strides. Brody was a proud man but the doubt and fear in her eyes as she had been lost in her thoughts had him losing all pride and just wanting to assure her.  

He grabbed her shaking hands, pulling them away from her hair, which he wanted her to leave down, and then looked deeply into her emerald eyes.  

"Brody, I..."  

"Hush," he said gruffly as he massaged her tiny hands with his calloused thumbs. "I used to be a real open man, Elizabeth. I loved to laugh and have a good time. My older sisters used to get mad enough at me to spit because I always knew how to push their buttons and I loved to do it. I was loyal to a fault and lived for those I loved. The Yankees took that away from me. I hadn't really laughed in nine years. I hadn't had a good time in nine years. I had turned my heart off and I lived in a kind of fog that blinded me to any goodness left in the world.  

"Then I met you. You're a pain in the ass. An arrogant, bossy, beautiful, amazing, proud, hardworking woman and you woke me up. From the day in the barn when you pulled your gun at me and I held your body against mine, I knew there was something about you that was special. Then I got to know you, I watched you work, I heard your sadness when talking about your father, I worked side by side with you and I saw deeper into your heart and I realized that if anybody could make me happy again, it was you. But it was against the rules and I didn't want to cause trouble between you and your father so I pushed you away.  

"Then you told me you were marrying Grant and damned if I didn't feel so jealous I would have shot the man in the head just to show you that you were 

not going to be marrying him. Do you want to know when I knew I had to marry you? When I knew that you were made for me? When I woke up in that wagon after we’d been taken and my first thought wasn’t about me. It was about you. I saw you lying there and I thought you were dead and the entire world stopped spinning for a full second. I love you, Elizabeth. I’ll live for you and I’ll die for you. I still say you deserve better but I can promise you that I’ll do anything and everything to make sure you have anything you ever want or need. You gave this back to me.“ He took her hand and laid her palm against his chest and a tear rolled down her cheek as she felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her hand, “You are my life,” Brody finished.

Elizabeth couldn't find words to reply as another tear slipped down her cheek and she saw that his eyes were bright with emotion as well.  She'd never expected such a long, romantic, love filled speech from him. This man was a constant surprise and she knew she was seeing the real him. The him he had been before the Yankees had taken his family. He was warm, caring, fun loving, stubborn, and sometimes hard. He liked to laugh and joke and he loved pushing her buttons. Life with him would never be boring or dull. It would be an adventure.  

"I love you too, Brody. I love you will all my heart. Nothing in this world means more to me than you." she replied softly and he crushed her lips with his.  

This kiss was different than any they had shared before. She could feel him pouring more of himself into it. It was full of love, passion and the promise of forever. She kept one hand against his heart and buried the other in his hair, pulling him closer.  

A knock on the door finally tore them apart.  

"You two about ready?" George's voice came from the other side. 	Brody cleared his throat and Elizabeth was nearly certain she saw a tear in his eye, but then thought maybe she'd imagined it when he blinked and it was gone, "Yeah. Just give us five more minutes," he replied.   

"Yep." George's footsteps faded away.  

"I want nothing more than to walk out there and become your husband right here and now but I want to make sure this is what you want to do. We can wait and do it later. Your pa....."  

Elizabeth put her hand over his mouth to silence him and traced her finger across the scar on his cheek, "My pa has been controlling my life for too long. This is what I want, Brody. I want you and me together forever. I don't want that ranch. I want you and I to make our own home, our own life."  

"I'd do anything for you," Brody replied and she could hear such sincerity and honesty in his voice that it took her breath away.  

"Then let's go out there and you can become my husband."  

He smiled, "Yes ma'am."  

---

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride," George declared with a happy smile.  

Brody laid his rough hands over Elizabeth's soft, flushed cheeks and pressed his lips tenderly to hers.  

"You two are gonna have a lifetime of happiness!" Carol Anne exclaimed as Charlie wrapped his arm tight around her tiny waist. "I just know you are! You're both smiling so big, it's a miracle your cheeks ain't cracking apart!"  

Brody lowered his head somberly, "I'm just smiling to keep from cryin' cuz I just realized I'm gonna be waking up beside that face every day. Forever. And ever. And ever."  

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and glared at him, "You poor thing."  

 He grabbed her and crushed her against him in a tight hug. How could he possibly believe that he wasn't dreaming right now? Life had been nothing but dirt, dust, blood and loneliness for nine years and now suddenly everything was better because this beautiful woman loved him... His wife. 	They still had some bumps to get over. The truth about the ranch and who had wanted them dead and the anger that her father would no doubt have at finding out that Brody had married his daughter without permission. But Brody wasn't worried about any of that. They would face this storm and every other storm in life together and together they would get through anything.  

"Now you two will probably be wanting some privacy for the night," George walked toward the table, "There is a nice bed out in the loft of the barn that we keep out there for when the animals need round the clock care. You two can use it and then in the morning we'll get ya all set up with a horse and supplies and let you get on home."  

"Thank you all so much! I don't know how we'll ever thank you enough," Elizabeth replied.  

George waved his hand dismissively and gripped his weathered black bible, "No thanks is necessary," he assured her. "Now go on and get some rest."  

Brody didn't need to be told again. He grabbed Elizabeth's hand and led her from the house. She squealed with surprise when he picked her up into his arms and carried her through the darkness and into the barn where there were already several lanterns lit for light.   

"What are you doing?" she demanded with laughter.  

"I always hear folks talk of carrying your new wife through the door or some such nonsense like that. I figured I'd give it a try." he replied with a grin.  

 Elizabeth kissed his cheek, "Well put me down because you can't carry me up the ladder to the loft."

 Brody raised a brow and shook his head, "Cowgirl, don't never tell me that I can't do something because once you do, I'll either do whatever it is or die trying." Without warning, he tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of feed, keeping one arm wrapped around her and his hand firmly secured on her backside and using his other arm to help pull them both up the ladder while Elizabeth laughing with every breath she took.  

Her laughter stopped instantly once he sat her down on her feet beside the small feather tick bed in the loft and she saw the hungry light that had suddenly appeared in his green eyes.  

"Never thought I'd get married," he said gruffly as smoothed her hair from her face, "I'm gonna be the best husband I can be to you."  

"And I'll be the best wife I can be. Just don't expect too many home cooked meals and a spotless house."  

"Don't be expecting poetry, chocolates and flowers from me either and we oughta get along just fine," he replied.  

Elizabeth laid her hand on his cheek and felt the hardness of his muscular jaw beneath the stubble that was already beginning to cover his face again, "I only want you to promise me one thing," she whispered softly.  

"What's that?" he asked as his big hand ran down her side and rested on her hip.  

"Forever."

 He smiled, "That, Mrs. Atkinson, is a guarantee."  

Elizabeth trembled when his firm, warm lips pressed against the hollow of her throat and his hand came to her breast. His calloused fingers teased her nipple through the thin fabric of the dress and she felt her knees buckle. Only his strong arm, wrapping tight around her waist, held her upright.  

Brody felt his blood pounding through his veins and he moved his lips back to hers and kissed her with ever ounce of love and passion he possessed. He slipped the dress from her shoulders and then pressed his lips against every inch of her strong shoulders. No other woman had ever, or would ever, excite him the way Elizabeth did. Everything about her, even her flaws, were perfect to him.  

He pushed the dress down further and lowered his head to her small, high breasts as she buried her hands in his hair. Her hungry moans filled the dusty air as his lips and tongue teased and stroked her breasts, causing pleasure to course through her and her toes to curl in her boots. Brody pushed the dress the rest of the way down and his lips moved to her flat stomach, her curved hips and then she called out his name with shock when she felt him press a kiss to her most sensitive flesh.  

Only when she was whimpering for him to make love to her did he move his mouth back to hers. He quickly undid his vest and shirt and slid out of them before pulling off his boots and pants.  

He laid her down on the bed and as he slid himself inside of her and called out her name, he knew that never again would he have to feel the loneliness that had plagued him for so long. Elizabeth was a gift from God himself and Brody would do anything he had to do to keep her forever.

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Elizabeth kept one arm wrapped around Brody's waist as she turned in the saddle and waved at George, Carol Anne and Charlie. They had given her and Brody a brown mare to get home on and enough food and water to last for at least two days. Elizabeth vowed that someday she would pay them back for everything they had done.  

Turing back around, she wrapped her other arm around Brody and laid her cheek against his broad back, enjoying his power, warmth and comfort. He kept one hand loosely on the reins and laid his other hand over hers as he looked out over the horizon.  They rode for a long time in silence and the sun was high in the sky when he finally stopped next to an outcropping of trees.  

He turned his head and looked at her with a smile, "Hungry?" he asked.  

"Yes."  

"Good. Me too." He jumped from the saddle and wrapped the reins around a low pine bough as Elizabeth jumped down and stretched out her aching muscles. She wished she could have worn her trousers and shirt but they had been beyond saving so she was still wearing Carol Anne's blue dress. She had to admit that Brody looked extremely handsome in Charlie's clothes. The crisp white shirt and midnight black vest hugged his muscular chest and broad shoulders and the black pants fit tight across his lean hips and long legs.  

Brody walked over to her with a canteen and let her take a long drink before he pressed it against his own lips and took a sip.  

"I've got something for you," he said as he screwed the top back on.  

"What?" Elizabeth asked curiously.  

Brody sat the canteen on the ground and reached in his pocket. He pulled out a necklace and held it up for her to see. The chain was simply cotton thread and the cross hanging from it was about two inches long and made out of shining pewter that caught the sunlight as he held it.  

"I'll get ya a ring, I promise, but this is what I have to offer right now. The cross was my mama's. She wore it every single day and I took it when I left home. The chain got broke but Carol Anne gave me some string so you could wear it...." he shifted awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Do you like it? You don't have to wear it if you don't want to..."  

"I love it, Brody," she whispered through the emotions tightening her throat.  

 He smiled with relief and then draped the necklace over her head and rested the thread chain against her shoulders. She looked down at the cross dangling on her chest and smiled as she closed her hand around it, "I'll wear it forever," she promised.  

"My mama would have liked you. She was a tough one just like you. I still think that's why pa didn't tell her to hide when those men rode up. He knew there was no way she'd turn the other cheek and leave him to face those men alone."  

"Neither of us ever have to face anything alone again. You'll always have me, Brody."  

They shared a gentle kiss and then she smiled against his lips when she heard his stomach growl.  

"As nice as that kiss was, I think right now my stomach needs my attention more than you do," he winced and she laughed.  They sat together and munched on some of the ham and biscuits that Carol Anne had sent with them and then they climbed back on the horse.  

"We should get back to the ranch by tomorrow afternoon at the latest," Brody informed her as they started on their way.  

"I hope pa is still there...." Elizabeth whispered sadly and Brody squeezed her hand that was resting on his stomach.  

"No matter what, I'll be there for you." he vowed. "I think there are some things I need to tell you before we get there though."  

"What?" Elizabeth asked warily. She could hear the dread in his voice.   

"I have a hunch about who wanted you dead. Elizabeth. Braxton has been trying to keep me away from you since I showed up at the ranch. He told me you were a man eater who liked to have her way with men and then spit them out. He didn't want me anywhere near you. I think he's the man that your pa is leaving the ranch to. I think that's why he didn't want to risk you falling in love and getting married."  

"Braxton?" Elizabeth demanded. "Braxton has been around since my pa started the ranch! Braxton helped raise me!"  

"I'm sorry. I could be wrong but I don't think I am, and it gets worse. I think Anita was helping him."  

"Now you're just being ridiculous!" Elizabeth exclaimed angrily. "Anita is like a mother to me!"  

Brody let out a long breath, "I saw the two of them having secret meetings. Somebody had to have told Braxton that you agreed to marry Grant. That's what made him act and send those men after you. Who knew other than you and your father?"  

Elizabeth felt her heart break as the truth crashed down on her like a ton of bricks, "Anita," she choked out. "All over that stupid ranch? I thought those people loved me, Brody. I can't trust anybody...." 	

"You can trust me," he reminded her sternly. "And I'm gonna get to the bottom of things and make sure those responsible pay for what they've done to you."  

"Pay how?" Elizabeth demanded. Her mind was reeling and having trouble wrapping around the fact that Anita and Braxton would want her dead just so they could have the ranch. Anita had raised her. Anita had held her when she'd cried. Anita had changed her mind at the last minute and told Elizabeth not to marry Grant.  

"They'll pay," Brody assured her.  

"There is no law in Bakerstown other than that worthless little sheriff and he's Braxton's brother. I don't think he's going to listen to anything we have to say."  

"I didn't say a thing about the law," Brody warned.  

"What are you trying to say? That you plan on killing them!?"  

"Braxton is gonna die if he is the one that sent those men after you. There isn't a man alive that is going to hurt you without getting one of my bullets between his eyes."  

Elizabeth's eyes widened at the cold, conviction in his voice, "You're serious!" she gasped.  

"Damn straight, I'm serious," he agreed. "I've lost too much in my life and I sure as hell don't plan on losing you too. Any man, or woman, who tries to take you away from me, is going to answer to me about it."  

"Brody, promise me you won't kill anybody," Elizabeth pleaded, suddenly very serious.  

Brody shook his head, "No."  

"Brody Atkinson, you said you'd do anything for me, remember? This is what I ask of you. Please don't be the man you were for so long, living with anger and hate in your heart. I don't want you killing anybody else unless it's in self defense. Please promise me that you won't."   

Brody was silent for a long time and she could see the tension in his jaw as he stared hard at the land in front of them, "Killing people don't bother me, Elizabeth. I've killed too many to be bothered by it anymore."  

"Promise me," she repeated sternly.  

Finally he nodded, "Okay.  But only because I care about making you happy. I still say they deserve to die."  

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you," she said, laying her head against his shoulder.  

He turned his head and kissed her hair, "You are something else, Mrs. Atkinson. But now you've done used up your one request for the year."  

"Is that so?" she asked with a smile.  

"Yep. I done told ya that nobody tells me what to do. I'll let this one slide but it's the only one you're getting. I'll give ya one a year so you better make sure to make 'em count."  

"I would laugh, but it doesn't really sound like you're joking," Elizabeth noted.  

Brody shook his head, "That's because I'm not."  

"You're such a hard headed, pain in the ass sometimes. You better be glad....."  

"Shut-up!" he warned harshly, cutting off her words and causing her to look around with alarm. He never spoke to her that way unless.....  

The gunshot filled the hot summer air and the horse screamed in pain as it crumpled beneath them and fell to the ground. Brody twisted in the air  as they were both thrown from the horse, and caught her body in his arms to shield her from hitting the ground. And then in a movement that was fast and fluid, he turned their bodies so that his was on top of her, guarding her from any more bullets that might come their way.  

The silence was deafening. The only sound Elizabeth could hear was the last dying breaths that the horse was taking as it bled to death on the dusty road.  

"There's two men," Brody whispered, "And I don't have a gun," he added. "You stay the hell behind me, do you understand?" Elizabeth didn't reply, "Damn you woman, you better do as I say and stay behind me!" he warned sternly and then he stood up and Elizabeth did the same, though her legs were shaking so badly that they could hardly support her weight.  

"We don't have money if that's what you're after!" Brody called to the two men that were walking toward them, leading their horses by the reigns with their revolvers drawn.  

"Shut up. We'll tell you when to speak," the taller of the two dirty men said. Brody's eyes narrowed. He recognized that voice but he wasn't sure from where.  

"I wanna know how they did it, Rene! Ask 'em how they did it!" the shorter man said. He was barely five and a half feet tall and he was thin and wirey with shockingly bright red hair that was tangled and messy, and dark freckles covering his pockmarked face.  Brody looked at the taller man, who he now knew was named Rene. Funny name for a man, but this man clearly wasn't as helpless as his name made him sound. He was skinny but he had that hard look in his black eyes that told you he knew how to handle himself.  

"Shut up, Petey," Rene snapped and Petey clamped his mouth shut but continued to bounce from foot to foot with excitement.  

"How did you kill Tiny and Clark? You didn't have any guns inside that wagon," Rene demanded and suddenly Brody remembered the voice. Rene had been outside the wagon that he and Elizabeth had been transported in. He was one of the two that had ridden away.  

"I had a knife in my boot," Brody replied, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a plan to save his wife. "I used it on the big man and then I used the big man's gun to shoot the other one."  

"Can we kill him now? I say we kill him! Let's kill him, Rene." Brody didn't recognize Petey's voice. Petey must not have been outside the wagon and he was clearly a full bubble and a half off of plumb. Brody felt helpless. There was nothing he could do to save both himself and Elizabeth but maybe if he distracted the men, his wife would be able to run, hide and save herself.  

The two men became distracted momentarily as they spoke to each other and Brody whispered to Elizabeth, "When I say run, you better run. You run like you've never run before into that forest over there and you don't stop until your legs fall off, do you understand me?"  

"I won't leave youm" Elizabeth replied as she reached for his hand. 	He jerked away, "I can't save us both, cowgirl. Do as I say."  

Brody took a step toward the men and drew their attention.  

"Did I tell you to move?" Rene demanded.  

"You should have heard your friends begging for their lives before I killed them," Brody said coldly as he walked closer to the two men, putting more distance between himself and his wife and using his body to completely shield Elizabeth from their view.  

"We'll kill you and your little bitch too!" Petey said better letting out a maniacal laugh.  

"Run," Brody said calmly and the two men looked confused. Brody realized Elizabeth wasn't moving behind him. "Run." he repeated, just as calmly.  

Rene cocked his gun, "Enough of this."  

"Dammit Elizabeth! Run!" Brody yelled and he lunged for Rene, as the gun fired. Brody felt the burning pain as the bullet entered his chest and lodged against his rib.  

"Brody!" Elizabeth screamed.  

"Run, you stupid woman! Run!" Brody growled out. He saw Petey aiming at Elizabeth and quickly jumped in front of the gun, sending the bullet tearing into his shoulder.  

"No!" Elizabeth screamed. She wanted to run. She wanted to do as he'd asked but how could she. How could she run when Brody was being shot to pieces. She ran forward intent on helping him somehow and he turned to look at her.  

"Why can't you just do what I say?!" he yelled.  

"Because I love you too much to leave you!" she yelled back. She ran at Petey and punched him as hard as she could in the jaw. He laughed as he grabbed her by the arm, twisted her around and held her, struggling but helpless, against his body.  

"Don't hurt my wife," Brody growled. He was having trouble staying awake as he stood there on weak legs. Blood poured from his chest and shoulder, turning his white shirt a deep crimson as sweat slicked his brow.  

"I'm gonna kill her. Yep Yep. Gonna make her die!" Petey cackled happily.

Brody looked at Elizabeth helplessly and suddenly yet another bullet ripped into him. This one breaking the bone in his thigh and sending him to his knees.  

"Brody!" Elizabeth screamed again.  

Brody looked at her tear stained, pale face and mouth the words 

‘I’m sorry’ just before Rene’s boot kicked him in the face and he fell on his back. The fiery pain in his body was nothing compared to the fear he felt as he looked at his wife in that dirty man’s hands. Brody was fighting off unconsciousness but he knew he was dying as his blood pooled on the dusty ground beneath him.

The last thing his eyes saw before they drifted closed was Petey putting his gun to Elizabeth's head. The last thing he heard before giving in to the darkness was the sound of the shot that he knew was ending his beautiful wife's life.

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

"You can't kill her, you idiot!" Rene exclaimed as he shoved Petey's hand and caused his shot to go wide.  

"Why the hell not? Huh? Huh? She wants to die," Petey replied, nodding his head up and down quickly.  

Elizabeth couldn't seem to stop screaming Brody's name as she looked down at him on the ground. She couldn't tell if his chest was rising and falling as his blood continued to soak into the hard, dry dirt. His rugged face was pale. His firm lips were hanging open. His legs were crumpled beneath him and his arms were spread wide.  

Tears ran down her cheeks. The fat droplets falling to the ground and splattering in the dust. The one person she had left in her life that she knew she could count on and trust was lying dead in the dust. Her husband. Not even a full day did they get to spend as husband and wife before she'd been made a widow. It wasn't fair... God had not given them enough time. Not nearly enough time.  

"Shut up!" Rene scolded and he backhanded her across the face, silencing her screams and bringing her attention back to the two men who were now her captors. She shook with her hatred of these men.  

"Why can't we kill her Rene?" Petey demanded as he bounced around, "She wants to die just like her pathetic little husband there." 	

"We can't kill her because she's worth more to us alive. Just imagine what we can get Braxton to give us in order to keep our mouths shut and keep her away from her old man?"  

"Money!" Petey replied with glee. "Lots and lots of money!"  

"That's right. That Braxton man is foolish. He thinks I don't know who he is.. I always know who I'm working for before I ever accept a job,"  Rene replied as he holstered his revolver. "Now knock her out and come on, we ain't got all day. We wanna get away from that body before it starts stinkin'."  

Something inside of Elizabeth snapped. She wanted to kill these men for what they'd done to Brody. Before Petey could hit her with his gun, she reached for the knife in the strap on his leg. She pulled it and then yanked herself from his arms and turned to face him, slicing the blade cleanly, and deeply, across his throat.   

A gurgling sound filled the air as blood poured from the laceration. He reached out for her and grabbed onto the necklace Brody had given her. She tried to yank away but the string broke and he released his hold on it as it fell to the ground in the puddle of his crimson blood already forming at their feet.  

"Petey!" Rene yelled. He saw the knife in Elizabeth's hand and watched Petey fall to the ground, lifeless at her feet. "You'll pay for killing my brother, bitch," he growled. He grabbed her wrist, squeezing so tightly she screamed and dropped the knife to the ground and then he brought his revolver down hard on her head and the last thing she saw was Brody lying in a pool of his own blood on the ground.  

Rene tied her hands and ankles together and threw her over the back of his horse. He gathered up his brothers body and threw him over the back of the black mare that had always been Petey's favorite. He was going to miss his little brother but he couldn't lose sight of the goal and the goal was becoming rich. Elizabeth was worth more to him alive than she would be dead.  

---

"Wake up, bitch," Rene snapped harshly as he kicked Elizabeth in the side.  

She groaned and her eyes flew open, "Brody..." she moaned.  

Rene rolled his eyes, "He's dead, bitch. Just like my brother." 	Elizabeth wanted to cry but she had no more tears left just now and she also didn't want to give this man the satisfaction of seeing her break down again, "I have a name, you bastard."  

"I really don't care," he replied as he went about getting a fire going in the small patch of trees he'd chosen to stop in for the night.  

Elizabeth realized it was nearly dark and she'd been unconscious all day. She licked her dry, parched lips and tried to stretch her muscles but her ankles and wrists were tied. She pulled herself into a sitting position and leaned against the tree behind her, "Where are we?" she asked.  

"We'll be in town tomorrow. It'll be later than it would have been if I hadn't of had to bury Petey."  

"What about Brody?" Elizabeth demanded.  

"What about him?" he asked with a shrug.  

 Elizabeth exploded with rage, "You just left his body there for the buzzards! How could you do that?!"  

"Your precious husband killed two of my best friends and left them to rot in the back of a wagon. Don't expect sympathy from me," Rene said as he sat down beside the fire, pulled some jerky from a bag and began to chew it loudly.

 Elizabeth's broken heart shattered into even more pieces as she thought of Brody left lying out there for the coyotes to eat. She felt bile rise up in the back of her throat and she was helpless to stop herself as she vomited on the ground beside her.  

"Stop that!" Rene yelled angrily. "I'm trying to eat."  

Elizabeth looked at him pleadingly, "Kill me. Please, just kill me. Let me be with my husband," she begged.  

She didn't want to live without Brody. Strange that he had been a part of her life for such a short time but had somehow become the only part of her life that mattered. Without him she had nothing. She would never feel his warm touch. Never feel those rough, calloused hands touching her body the way that only he could. She would never hear him scolding her, whispering to her, laughing with her. She would never again hear him bossing her around or sighing with exasperation when she bossed him.  

No, life without Brody wasn't any kind of life that she wanted to live.  

"Quit being so damn dramatic," Rene replied harshly. He held out a canteen of water and Elizabeth curled her nose and jerked her head away.  "Get a drink," he insisted and he pressed the canteen to her lips. 	

She glared at him as he poured the warm water into her mouth. He pulled the canteen away and she spit every bit of the water back at his face, "You bitch!" he exclaimed and he slapped her across the face, causing a stinging pain, that she refused to show.  

Rene smiled as he wiped his face with his shirt. "You're going to wish you hadn't done that when you start dying of thirst."  

"I want to die, you piece of shit," Elizabeth spat back.  

"You won't want to after you feel those first pains of dehydration," he assured her. "Now shut up and go to sleep."  

Elizabeth laid down with her back to Rene. She closed her eyes and didn't know how long she lay there before drifting off to sleep.  

She nearly cried out when Brody's ruggedly handsome face was suddenly there, inches from hers. His green eyes were shining with love as he smiled and ran his hand over her cheek. 


"You're too tough to be saying you want to die, Mrs. Atkinson. I didn't die for you, just to have you give up on living," he scolded.

"You shouldn't have died for me, Brody. I only asked you for one thing and you promised you'd give it to me. We were supposed to have forever." 


"Well, sorry the world didn't abide by your wishes, boss, but there wasn't no way in hell I was just going to let those men get their hands on you. You should have run when I told you to." 


Elizabeth smiled despite the pain in her heart. She loved that hard, arrogant, demanding tone that he got in his voice when he was angry at her. 


"You knew damn well I wasn't that kind of woman, Brody. I'm just like your mama. I wasn't going to leave my husband to die alone." 


"I did die alone, Elizabeth," he countered sadly, "You didn't and now you have to find a way to keep yourself alive. Don't let my death be for nothing." 


"I love you, Brody." 


"I love you too," Brody replied as he kissed her forehead. Elizabeth sighed at the feel of his warm firm lips on her skin and she closed her eyes. "Go to sleep. You need your strength," he urged. 


"No, I like being here with you," Elizabeth argued stubbornly and he chuckled. 


"I'll be right here holding you. No matter what. No matter where you go. No matter what happens later in your life, I'll be right there with you," he promised. 


Satisfied that he was telling the truth, Elizabeth curled up against his warm, hard body and fell asleep. 

---

"What are you doing with that?" Elizabeth demanded of Rene the next day as he walked toward her with a red bandana.  

"I'm gonna make sure you can't holler for help when I take you into town," he replied and he tied the bandana tight around her head  and over her mouth roughly. The fabric was dirty and sweat covered and the taste of it against her thirst swollen tongue made her want to vomit. And she would have vomited if there had been any food left in her stomach.  He untied his own bandana from his neck and tied this one around her face, leaving only her eyes visible. He took off his hat and placed it on her head in an effort to make her even harder to recognize.  

"That should work. I can't risk anybody recognizing you before I get you locked up nice and safe in the hotel."  

Elizabeth hated the feel of Rene's hard hands on her as he lifted her back onto the saddle. He had untied her feet so she could sit properly but he had left her hands tied and he hid that fact by placing his duster coat over her lap.  

As they rode into town, she looked around nearly empty streets and suddenly wished the ranch was closer to a big city. Somewhere that would have plenty of law officers and witnesses to see her and recognize that she needed help. Fewer than fifty people even lived in town here and the good for nothing sheriff would probably piss himself if he had to deal with something as serious as kidnapping and murder.  

Elizabeth didn't fight against Rene as he hitched the horse outside of the hotel and paid for them a room before taking her up to the second story and throwing her down on the bed. All of her fight was gone. It had died in the dirt with Brody. She didn't really care what happened to her now. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep so she could see his handsome face again.  

"You're going to stay here," Rene said as he took the bandana off her face. "I'm going to leave that gag in your mouth so you aren't tempted to scream for help and I'm going to tie your feet back up."  

Elizabeth didn't fight him as he tied her ankles together and then pulled her arms and her legs behind her back and hogtied her on the bed, "I'll be back in a few hours and hopefully I'll be coming back a rich man." 	Elizabeth watched him leave and prayed that somehow, someday, he'd die a very painful death for what he'd done to her husband.

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Rene rode up to the ranch and was met by several angry looking men with guns.  

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" a grizzled old man, with frizzy white hair and sharp blue eyes demanded.  

"I'm here to speak with Braxton," Rene replied as he sat relaxed on top of his horse and kept a loose hand on the reigns, "I've got some news about the McCready girl."  

"What kinda news?" another middle aged man asked.   

Rene's eyes narrowed, "News for Braxton."  

"You can tell us just as easy as you can tell him," the grizzled old man replied as he kept his gun sights on Rene.  

"What the hells going on?" Rene recognized the huge man named Braxton as he strode from the barn and walked toward them with his muscular arms swinging and his big fists clenched.  

"Hello Braxton. We need to have a talk," Rene said calmly.  

Braxton's eyes nearly bugged out of his head and he stuttered several times before saying, "Come in the house and we'll talk."

 Rene nodded and got off the horse. He hitched it to a rail outside the large two story home and then followed Braxton inside.  

Anita raised a brow when she saw the visitor but Braxton shook his head when she tried to follow them into Elizabeth's old room, "You go back to the kitchen and do whatever it was you were doing," he scolded. Anita looked hurt but nodded as she turned around. "What is Ernest doing?" he asked her retreating back.  

"Sleeping," Anita replied without turning around. Braxton had become more and more distant the last few days.  "That's all he does now. He can't even get out of his bed anymore. He's only hanging on because he thinks Elizabeth might be coming home."  

"I'll take care of everything, Anita." Braxton promised and then he threw a threatening glance in Rene's direction. Rene shrugged and picked at his tooth with his dirty fingernail. Anita hurried off to the kitchen and 	

Braxton was about to shut the bedroom door when Grant appeared and stepped inside, "If this is about my fiancée, I deserve to hear about it." 	Braxton couldn't very well tell the man no. Not when he could still rat him out to Ernest. Rene walked over to the tidy feather tick bed and sat down on the yellow comforter, "How did you figure out who I was and what in the hell are you here for?" Braxton demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.  

"I'm not foolish, that's how I figured out who you are. and I'm here because I have news about Elizabeth McCready," Rene replied calmly as he wrinkled his nose at the strong smell of rose water in the room.  

"What news?" Braxton demanded, struggling to keep his voice down as he clutched onto the edge of the dresser. "She's dead isn't she? That's what you told me. That's what I paid you for!"  

"Well see that's the thing. When I talked to you, I thought she was dead. I left two of my guys with her and the man and they were supposed to take care of them. We underestimated Brody, which technically is your fault since you didn't tell us he'd be there."  

"What the hell! Does that mean that son of a bitch is coming back and bringing that brat with him?" Braxton demanded slamming his hand on the dresser.  

Grant crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels, enjoying Braxton's discomfort. Either way Grant was okay. If his fiancée came home he could marry her and the ranch would be his. If she didn't, he'd still end up with the only chunk of the land he really cared about having.  

"No, my brother and I killed Brody," Rene assured Braxton.  

"Okay... What about Elizabeth?" Braxton asked tensely.  

"She's tied up at the hotel in town."  

"What?!" Braxton demanded, his face reddening.

"I heard there's a reward for her safe return. Now, I figure you can either pay me that reward, plus a little extra for all my hard work, or I can return her safely home to her ailing father."  

"Are you blackmailing me?" Braxton demanded.  

Rene chuckled, "Of course not. I'm just offering up a bit of a business proposition."  

"It seems as if there are a lot of men offering you business propositions," Grant noted with amusement.

 Braxton was shaking with rage, "I should just kill both of you right now!" he exclaimed.  

Rene nodded, "You should," he replied. "But you won't."  

Braxton braced himself against the wall with his palms and stared at the floor. Ernest was so close to dying, that he was getting tired of waiting for it to happen. He didn't see any choice but to do what these men asked. If he went against them, he could risk losing everything he'd worked so hard for and that just wasn't an option this late in the game.  

"Wait here," Braxton ordered, "I'll go get your money."

 He left the room to go sneak to the bosses office. Of course sneaking wasn't really necessary with the boss in a bedridden state and that nosey Thomas finally gone from the ranch. Thomas had left that morning, saying he no longer wanted to work at the McCready ranch.  

---

"So, Elizabeth is at the hotel, huh?" Grant asked once he and Rene were alone.  

Rene nodded as he ran his fingers over a lacy dress hanging in a fancy oak wardrobe, "Yep."  

"I want her," Grant replied. "I want to take her back to my home in Virginia."  

Rene shrugged, "That's fine with me. As long as Braxton gives me my money, you can take her wherever you want. The bitch is nothing but a payday as far as I'm concerned. I got no more interest in her then that."

The men nodded, solidifying their deal.  

"Here's your damn money," Braxton said several moments later when he came back into the room. "There are conditions though," he added as he jerked it away from Rene's outstretched hand.  

"And they are?"

"I want her dead."  

Rene looked over at Grant and Grant nodded and winked so Braxton couldn't see, "Fine. I'll finish her off," Rene agreed.

"I don't want anybody finding the body," Braxton added.  

"Consider it done," Rene assured him.

 Braxton handed Rene a bag full of money. Rene looked inside the bag and then shook Braxton's hand, "It was a pleasure doing business with you," he said and then he walked out of the room and back outside as if nothing had happened.  

"I'll be leaving too. I see no reason to stay any longer. You have my address in Virginia. I expect the papers for that land to be at my home in a months time. If they are not, I will make life very difficult for you."  

"I can't control when he'll finally die," Braxton argued.  

"We both know it won't be long. Goodbye Braxton." Grant exited the room just as nonchalantly as Rene had.  

Braxton walked into the sitting room and whistled for Anita who came running at the sound, "What is it?"  

"I want Ernest gone and I'm thinking the shock of knowing his daughter is dead is just the thing that will get the job done. Tell him the man that was here came to tell us that he found Elizabeth and Brody both dead in the desert and he buried them together. The old man will die quick once he learns his little princess isn't coming home ."  

"That's not really what that man was here for was it?" Anita asked as she wrung her hands.  

 Braxton felt his irritation with this woman grow. His eyes rolled upward, "No. But that's what you're going to tell him."

 Anita nodded as cast a nervous glance up the staircase, "This is going to be over soon isn't it?"  

Braxton nodded, "Yes."  

"And then we can get married and run the ranch together."  

"Of course," he assured her, laying his hand gently upon her cheek. 	Anita leaned into his palm for comfort and then quickly went up the stairs to tell Ernest about his beloved daughter.  

Braxton sat down on the couch with a bottle of scotch to wait on Anita to bring him the good news. He didn't have to wait long. In less than an hour Anita came back down the stairs. Her steps were heavy, her shoulders slumped and her face wet with tears.  

"He's dead," she squeaked. Braxton started laughing and it was clear by the way Anita's eyes widened that she worried for his mind, "Why are you laughing?"  

"Because it's over. It's finally over."  

Anita couldn't believe that he was enjoying this as much as he was. Her tear filled eyes narrowed, "It was horrible, Braxton. I told him about her and he just gave up. He closed his eyes, his wheezing grew weaker and more shallow and then he just faded away."  

Braxton ignored her, "It's mine. It's all mine." His arms stretched out as he up at the ceiling with pride and happiness.

"Ours," Anita reminded him.  

He sneered at her, "Mine!" he spat. "You were just a means to an end. You mean nothing to me. You can either stay or leave, it'll make no difference."  

Anita's face fell and then contorted with rage, "You used me!" she roared. Her hand fell hard across his face.  

 Braxton felt his own temper rise and he punched her hard in the jaw, splitting her lip and causing her to stumble backward as she fought to regain her balance.  

"I'll go to the law," she threatened as she wiped her mouth with her hand.  

Braxton smiled coldly, "Go ahead. The only law for miles and miles is my brother Willie. I don't think he'll be too eager to come out here and arrest me."  

"I hate you," Anita spat as tears filled her already tear swollen eyes.  

"No, you don't. You love me." Braxton laughed harshly, "You were so desperate and pathetic, it was easy to use you."  

Anita broke down in sobs as she realized that she had thrown her entire life away. She had betrayed and lied to Ernest, helped cause Elizabeth's death and why? The man whom she had done it for was now laughing at her.  

Anita turned on her heel and ran from the room. She went to Elizabeth's bedroom and locked the door before collapsing on Elizabeth's bed and hugging the girl's pillow tight, "I'm sorry!" Her body shook with sorrow, "I'm so sorry."  

---

Braxton took over the roll of boss as soon as he stepped back outside.  

"Frank! Wendell!" he called and the two men quickly came over to him. "Ernest is dead. The ranch is mine. You work for me now. Get a hole dug to throw him in."

 Frank shook his head, "I'm gone. Without Ernest or Miss McCready running this place, I'm not staying." He turned and showed Braxton his back as he headed toward the bunkhouse.   

"What about you Wendell?" Braxton demanded.  

"I'm here for money. You gonna pay me?" Braxton nodded. "Then I'll dig a hole."  

Braxton walked to the bunkhouse and told the rest of the remaining men who all agreed to stay on and work for him. Cookie said he was too old to go anywhere else and the rest of them were young enough that they hadn't felt too much loyalty to the McCready's the way Frank had.  

Braxton sent Jimmy into town to let Ernest's lawyer know that Ernest was dead so the paperwork could be finalized in Braxton's name and then he went to the barn and saddled his horse to go ride around the ranch that was finally his. Twenty-five years of waiting had finally paid off.  

The sound of a gunshot from inside the house stopped him in his tracks as he was saddling the horse. He ran into the house with Jimmy, Kent and Cookie on his heels.  

"Anita?!" he hollered. Silence met his words and a feeling of dread washed over him. He made his way back to Elizabeth's room where he'd seen Anita lock herself and tried the handle but it wouldn't budge. He hoped the old woman was okay. He might not really love her but he didn't want her dead.  

"What the hell is going on?" Kent demanded.  

"I don't know," Braxton hissed.  

He took a step back and kicked the door open and the sight he was meant with had him swallowing back down his vomit as Kent spewed his all over the hardwood floor.  

Anita was sprawled on Elizabeth's bed with her brains and blood splattered across the bright yellow comforter and the dark wall behind her. Elizabeth's small derringer pistol was still in her hand and her eyes were open and staring lifelessly at the ceiling. Braxton quickly backed out of the room and shut the door.  

"Why the hell did she go and do something like that?" Cookie grumbled.  

"Kent?" Braxton said as he rubbed his now aching temples.  

Kent wiped his mouth on his shirt sleeve and looked at him, "What?"

"Tell Wendell we'll need two holes."

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

"For once in your life you better do as someone tells you and keep yourself alive, cowgirl," Brody warned as he laid in the bed next to her. 


Elizabeth smiled and laid her head against his chest, listening to his steadily beating heart, "I'll stay alive just so I can have these dreams, Brody. Just so I can feel your arms around me." 


His lips gently brushed against her hair, "There ain't nowhere else I'd rather have my arms."

The sound of footsteps approaching the room, jerked Elizabeth from her dreams and her eyes flew open to reveal that it wasn't Brody's hard, warm body beneath her head, but a cold lumpy pillow. Tears stung her eyes but she blinked them away and looked at the door.  

Her eyes widened when Grant stepped into the room. Hope filled her. Grant would help her! Grant would get her away from Rene and she could go back and find her husband's body and give him the burial he deserved. Her hope quickly faded away when she saw the cold look on Grant's face and then saw Rene walk in the room behind him.  

Grant whirled around and glared at Rene, "You tied her up like a hog! That's no way to treat a lady."  

"

She ain’t no lady,“ Rene sneered as he closed the door. “She’s nothing but a thoroughbred bitch.”

"Nothing a little training won't fix," Grant assured him. He walked over to the bed and sat down beside Elizabeth.  

He stared down at her face and was shocked to see the look in her eyes. He'd remembered her green eyes as being full of temper, fire, amusement... They'd always shone with some form of emotion. Right now they looked like dead, cold orbs staring back into his own. The life was gone from them.  

"What did you do to her?" Grant demanded.  

Rene leaned against the wardrobe and shrugged, "The bitch says she wants to die and go be with her husband."  

Grant's eyes narrowed, "Husband?" he demanded. "You married that stupid cowpoke Brody after you agreed to marry me?" Elizabeth averted her gaze and Grant grabbed her chin roughly and turned her face back to his, "I won't tolerate your temper, do you understand? You either do as I say or things will get really bad for you. If I remove your gag will you scream?" He got no response. Those eyes still looked lifelessly back at him.  

"

Your father is dead, Elizabeth. Jimmy came into town just behind us and told us that he died today. Your husband is dead as well.“ he sneered. “Your ranch belongs to Braxton and Anita now and you have nothing left to fight for. I’m offering you a chance at life. Braxton wants you dead and as far as he knows right now Rene is making that happen. I, however, want you alive. I want to take you back to Virginia with me and put you in a beautiful house, give you a comfortable life. Now will you scream and yell and fight me if I take out that gag and remove those horrible ropes?”

Elizabeth felt no sadness over the loss of her father. She supposed it would come later but right now her mind and heart were too broken and numb to acknowledge any new tragedies. She wished Rene would just kill her but then an image of Brody taking those bullets for her entered her mind. He kept telling her, in her dreams, to keep herself alive. Maybe he knew something that she didn't....

"I'm going to take your calmness to mean that you aren't going to fight. I'll warn you, though, that if you offer me one bit of resistance, I will kill you. I am not the gentleman I have led you to believe."

 Elizabeth lay there as still as stone as Grant untied the gag from her mouth. She took several deep gasping breath once the nasty piece of fabric was gone and Grant moved behind her and undid the ropes from her wrists and ankles.  

"Get her some water, Rene." Grant ordered.  

"Get your own bitch water." Rene replied as he picked at his fingernails.  

Grant glared at the other man but stood up and walked to the pitcher of water on the dresser. He poured some into a small glass and held it out to Elizabeth, "Take the water," he urged sternly.

 Elizabeth reached out a weak, shaking hand and took the glass from him. She drank the water quickly and then calmly handed the glass back. Grant wondered where all her spunk had gone. Was she so dramatic that the death of that stupid cowpoke had truly affected her this badly or was it all an act?

"Well come on then, Elizabeth. It's late enough that the streets are empty. There is one last stage leaving to Silver Falls tonight and from Silver Falls we can catch the train to Virginia and your new home." Grant stood up, "I won't make you wear those horrible ropes anymore if you promise to be a good girl. Will you be a good girl, Elizabeth."  

"Yes," she replied, her voice cracking from lack of use. Elizabeth had no reason to fight him. She had nothing to fight for.  

"Good. Good girl." Grant turned to Rene and pulled some money from his pocket. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Rene. Here is some money for all of your troubles."  

"Well thanks, Mr. Foster. Have fun with your bitch," Rene replied as he took the money and stuck it in his pocket.  

Grant grabbed Elizabeth's arm tightly and guided her from the room. She kept her eyes on the floor and watched their feet moving across the fancy carpets and polished floors. For some reason she found their feet amusing. His highly polished shoes that caught the reflection of the candle lit hallway and her scuffed up boots, covered in dust and..... Blood... The amusement was gone and she felt a gnawing ache in her chest for Brody.

---

Thomas stepped out of the saloon and onto the wooden platform. Dusk was quickly approaching and he needed to go for a walk. All this business with Brody and Elizabeth was really getting to him. He wanted Braxton to pay for what he'd done but he wasn't sure how to make that happen. Not when the only law around was Braxton's little brother, a man who didn't know which end of a loaded gun was the dangerous one.  

Thomas ducked behind a banister when he saw Grant walk out of the hotel with a blond on his arm. The blond's face was hidden from view by her tangled hair as she stared down at the ground. They were heading for the stage office, where the final stage of the day was waiting for passengers. If Grant was leaving town did that mean Ernest was dead?  

Thomas shouldered his bag and started toward his horse, hitched at the post. He was getting the hell out of Bakerstown and the hell away from all these crazy people, killing each other over a piece of dirt. His eyes were again drawn to the blond. There was something familiar about her. He nearly yelled out when she raised her head and the light breeze blew her hair from her face.  

Elizabeth!

She was supposed to be dead! Did that mean Brody was alive to? What was Elizabeth doing with Grant and why did she look….. Broken? Thomas wasn’t sure what was going on but he knew that he had to do something. Thomas hid his face in his horses side and listened as they walked past him.

"You'll love your new home in Virginia, my dear. Your darling Brody could never have given you what I am about to give you."  

"I loved Brody."  

"Yes, and now he's dead. If you fight me, I'll make sure more die. Cookie, Frank, Thomas... Innocent people off the street. You will give me your obedience."  

"I have no fight left, Grant, so your threats are pointless."  

They moved out of his range of hearing but Thomas had heard enough. He would follow along behind the stage, catch the train to Virginia and eventually figure out a way to get Elizabeth safely away from Grant. He wouldn't risk the woman's life. Not only would Brody's ghost come back from the dead and kill him if he got Elizabeth killed but he had also always liked the woman and didn't want harm to come to her.  

---

Nearly two weeks later, Elizabeth stepped into Grant's big, country estate. The floors were wood and polished so brightly that she could see her reflection in them. The furniture was big and oversized. The decorations, English and French in style and very wealthy in appearance.  

"Home sweet home," Grant sighed with contentment as he sat his bags down, "Allow me to show you to your room."  

He took Elizabeth by the arm and led her up the floral carpeted staircase. They walked down a long hallway and he opened the door to a fancy bedroom. The four poster bed was made of deep, dark mahogany. The floors were polished, the walls were covered in rich, floral wall paper. The window looked down on the quiet country hills, painted green with lush grass.  There was a large, heavy dresser on one wall, a floor length mirror beside it, a large copper tub and a wardrobe were on the other wall.  

"Do you like it?" Grant asked. Elizabeth didn't reply, just walked over and sat down on the plush floral comforter on the bed. "This is your home now, Elizabeth. One day you'll come to love it. Just to prevent any attempts at escape, I'll be keeping this door locked and that window is two stories up so I'd think twice before trying to get out that way." Still Elizabeth didn't reply and Grant sighed and then left the room.  

Elizabeth heard the clicking sound of the lock being snapped into place and she threw herself down on the bed and cuddled up to the feather tick pillow. It had been two weeks since she'd lost her husband. Two weeks since she'd lost everything that mattered to her. Grant had been surprisingly nice, except for the keeping her prisoner and threatening to kill anyone around if she tried to run... Why would she run? What did she have to run to? She had no Brody. No home. No money. She had nothing. 	

She closed her eyes and felt her heart fill with love when Brody's face was there. There were times when she would swear the man was still alive because every time she thought about him, there he was. Strong, stubborn, confident and full of pride standing before her. At these times she would let herself believe that the great Brody Atkinson could never be brought down by any amount of bullets. He was too tough for something so simple to ever end his life. He loved her too much to leave her so easily.

Elizabeth sobbed into her pillow and lost herself in her dreams of his touch.

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

He could see her standing there in her blue cotton dress.  She was smiling and reaching for him. He reached for her but suddenly she was moving away from him, still with that loving smile on her face. He tried to catch her. He ran and ran but no matter how fast his legs worked, he couldn't get any closer. She just kept getting further and further away. 


"Stop, Elizabeth. Come to me!" he yelled with frustration. Still she stared at him with love and just kept getting further and further away. Then the gunshots rang out and he yelled in horror as her crimson blood soaked her dress. 


"No!" He screamed. "I promised I'd keep her safe!" 


Brody's eyes flew open and he tried to sit bolt upright in the bed he was lying on, only to be struck with a sharp pain in his chest that had him crying out and collapsing back against the feather tick mattress.   

"Easy there, chief." A gruff voice said beside him.  

Brody looked over at the man who had spoken. He was sitting in a chair, his clothes were dirty and crusty and seemed to be stiff with sweat and mud. His hair was blond and messy on his head and his face was a tangle of scars. His gray eyes were familiar when they looked at Brody but he wasn't sure why.  

"Where... Am.. I.." Brody choked out. His mouth and lips were drier than the desert itself and the man grabbed a glass of water off the table beside him and helped Brody take a drink.  

"You're in my house... Well shack I guess. Never thought I'd see you again, chief."  

"LeRoy?" Brody asked as recognition dawned on him. He hadn't seen private Banner since the war had ended and their whole company had went their separate ways.  

"Yep. Who the hell shot you full of holes?"  

"My wife..." Brody gasped suddenly as he tried again to sit up. 	LeRoy put a firm hand on his uninjured shoulder and held him down, "Now dammit, do as I say. They shot you up good. Your ribs saved your heart but your damn shoulder got hit and your leg is broke. It'll be a good six weeks before you're able to get up and move around much," he warned sternly. "Why in the hell did your wife shoot you for?"  

Brody closed his eyes against the pain that was coursing through his body. His shoulder burned, it hurt his ribs to take a deep breath, and the brace on his leg, held it immobilized, "No. Where is my wife? Is she okay? Did you save her?" Hope rose up in Brody. If LeRoy had gotten there in time to save him then maybe he had gotten there in time to save Elizabeth. 	LeRoy shook his head and seemed puzzled, "There wasn't nobody there but you."

 Brody felt even more hope. They'd taken her prisoner. But how long ago? "How long have I been here?" he demanded.  

"About two weeks. I thought you was gonna die of fever but you're looking a bit better now."  

"I have to go."  

"You can't go!"  LeRoy looked at Brody as if he were crazy. "You have a broken leg and a bullet hole in your chest and shoulder."

 Brody knew the man was right but that didn't mean he was happy about it. He couldn't even sit up, let alone hop on a horse and go riding. "I think you should know something, chief." LeRoy added with sadness. 	Brody looked at the man, who was only few years older then him but looked decades older with all those scars, "What?"  

"There weren't no other bodies there, but there was blood."  

Brody's heart stopped beating in his chest, "Blood?" he whispered around the lump of dread in his throat. His nostrils flared as he took deep breaths to try to keep himself from losing it. "How much blood?"  

"The amount of blood that lets you know that whoever it belonged to is dead."   

"No...." Brody choked out as he shook his head. "No."  

"I found this," LeRoy reached in his pocket. "It was lying in the blood. I cleaned it up the best I could."  

Brody reached out with his good arm and snatched the necklace from LeRoy's hand. The pewter cross shone in the sunlight coming through the tiny cabin window but the white cotton thread was stained nearly black with dried blood. Elizabeth's blood.

 Brody couldn't fight the pain. He hadn't cried when his family had died. Hadn't cried during anything he'd faced in that damn war.  He hadn't cried no matter what he'd gone through in life, but now he was broken.  

The tears burned his eyes as he clutched the cross so tightly it cut into his palm. He turned his head and buried his face in the pillow as he cried out Elizabeth's name.  

LeRoy listened to Brody's choking, body wracking sobs filling the cabin and then stood and left to go look after his horse, leaving his old friend to his grief.  

---

"Over a ranch?" LeRoy asked incredulously. Brody nodded as he sat propped against the wall. It had taken two weeks for the tears to stop falling every time he mentioned Elizabeth. Now he just felt a blackness in his heart. A deadness.  

He would get his revenge against those that had taken his wife from him. They would pay with their lives. Every last one of them. The list in his head was long. Braxton, Anita, Rene, Petey and whoever the fourth man had been when they'd been locked in the wagon. It didn't stop there. The list included any of the hands at the ranch that got in his way, Ernest for not giving his daughter the ranch to begin with and of course Grant... Just because he didn't like the little weasel.  

Brody knew Elizabeth had begged him not to kill anyone but she was dead now and he had no reason to try to become a good man. As a matter of fact, the thought of putting bullets in all those people, was all that was giving him the drive to eat, drink and regain his strength.  

"Yeah, over a ranch," Brody replied coldly.  

LeRoy clicked his tongue, "You got revenge on your mind." Brody had never been a warm person but even LeRoy was shocked by the coldness in the man at this point and he felt sorry for anyone that got in Brody Atkinson's way as he did what he thought needed to be done.  

"Yep. Just as soon as I can get out of this bed and onto a horse there are a bunch of people that are going to die and I'm going to kill them."  

"Would your wife have wanted that?" LeRoy questioned.  

Brody closed his hand around the cross hanging from his neck and closed his eyes to see Elizabeth's face. Her spirited green eyes, her stubborn jaw, her tiny nose. When he opened his eyes they were full of an icy fire that made a shiver pass over LeRoy's spine.  

"She's not here to offer her opinion, LeRoy. They killed her."  

---

"Damn near good as new!" LeRoy exclaimed a month later as Brody walked outside onto the porch. "I should've been a doctor."  

 Brody stretched out his stiff muscles. His chest and shoulder muscles still felt tight and sore but the wounds were closed. It was the bone in his leg that bothered him the most. A deep ache throbbed deep down inside that no amount of rubbing took away and he walked with a slight limp.  

"Thanks for the help, LeRoy," Brody said.  

LeRoy shrugged, "Ya know, I've been thinking. If you're gonna become a revenge driven outlaw, you're gonna need a partner. We fought side by side in the war, I say we fight side by side in this adventure too."  

"This is personal, LeRoy," Brody said with a shake of his head. 	LeRoy snorted, "I'm bored. I need an adventure."  

Brody ran his hand through his hair, which he'd cut that morning so that instead of hanging to his shoulders, it hung to his ears, "It's up to you. But I won't die to protect you. Not until every last person on my list is dead and gone."

 LeRoy grumbled under his breath, "Just cuz you saved my life once doesn't mean I'll need you to do it again. I paid that debt back when I scraped your ass off the dusty road."  

"You should have left me there," Brody stated as he buttoned the brown vest LeRoy had given him over the white shirt, which LeRoy had also given him. "I'm a man with no reason to live other than revenge and I can guarantee that each and every person that helped take my wife away will be screaming before I'm through."  

LeRoy nodded and tossed Brody an extra gun belt and revolver, "Let's get started then because I have a feeling this could take a while."  

---

Elizabeth sat in the chair beside her bedroom window and looked out into the darkness. Six weeks she'd been locked in this room. Forty-two days. The only reason she'd been able to keep track was because Grant had made sure to remind her every day when he came to visit her. So far he hadn't gone beyond slapping her in the face and harassing her with words.  

It seemed to anger him that nothing he did made her show emotion. What did he want from her? Tears? She had nothing left to cry over. Fear? She wasn't afraid of the death he threatened. She knew he would grow impatient and the beatings would get worse soon. He might even try to force himself on her. If it came to that she was ready to kill herself. She would not let another man touch her in that way.  

A wave of nausea passed over her and Elizabeth stood and ran to the basin by the tub and threw up the bread, pears and water she had eaten for dinner. She clung to the basin until the queasiness passed and then wiped her mouth on the sleeve of the fancy green satin dress that Grant had insisted she wear.  

She had been getting sick for weeks and staying tired. She blamed it on the loss of Brody and everything else she knew in her life. She made her way back to the chair and looked back out at the night. Grant had no neighbors for miles and the view of the surrounding hills and mountains really was breathtakingly beautiful from her room.    

She thought of Brody who had grown up in Virginia. Though he had grown up further west, beside the Kentucky border outside of a little town called Harmony. Brody had told her that his brother and two surviving sisters still lived there in the same house he'd grown up in. Thinking of Brody as a child caused her to imagine what her and Brody's children would have looked like if they'd been given enough time to have them.  

Sharp, dark, intense little boys and little girls full of piss and vinegar  just like she had been as a child. She laid her hand over her stomach and thought of how it would have been to be grow large with Brody's baby inside of her. Then a sudden thought occurred to her.  

She hadn't had her cycle in months. She hadn't had it since before she and Brody had been kidnapped.  

Elizabeth stared down at her flat stomach. Was she pregnant? She closed her eyes and the truth washed over her like a comforting wind. Brody wasn't completely gone. She had a piece of him growing inside of her. A piece of the love they had shared.  

That must be why 

‘dream Brody’ had kept telling her not to give up. He had known she was carrying their child. Elizabeth suddenly felt some fight come back into her spirit. She had a reason to live now. She had a reason to get the hell away from Grant and start a new life for her and her baby. She had to get away soon because if Grant saw her starting to show he would probably kill the baby and that was something she could not let happen.

Happy tears of hope ran down her cheeks as she looked back out the window and then her eyes narrowed when she saw the dark figure running across the yard toward the house. The figure disappeared into the shadows beside the house and she wondered who it could be. Just then a pebble hit her the glass windowpane and she let out a squeak of surprise. She sat there for several moments and then another pebble struck the window. She raised the window and stuck her head outside. The full moon illuminating the yard as if it was dawn.  

"Who the hell is out there?!" she demanded as she dodged a third pebble.  

"Damn it, Miss McCready, I've been waiting for weeks for you to try to escape so I can help you. So can I ask why you're still just sitting in that window as pretty as you please?" Thomas's voice floated up from the shadows and he stepped into the moonlight.  

"Thomas!" she exclaimed in an excited whisper. "What are you doing here?"  

"I saw Grant leaving with you. Everyone thought you were dead. Everyone still thinks you're dead. I followed you, convinced that you'd make a grand escape and I'd be able to help you but so far you ain't done nothing."  

"I wanna do something now," she replied. "And I'm not Miss McCready anymore. I'm Mrs. Atkinson."  

"Y'all got married?" Elizabeth nodded. "I'm awful sorry for your loss then Mrs. Atkinson. Why don't you come on and I'll help take ya somewhere safe. I'll protect ya, just the way Brody would have wanted someone to."  

"I can take care of myself," she snapped, with a flash of her old temper and then she smiled. "But a little help never hurt anybody."  

"Grant's gone. I saw him leave. You wanna jump out this window and I'll catch ya?"  

"I can't."  

"You scared or something?" Thomas asked.  

 Elizabeth shook her head, "I'm with child."  

Thomas's eyes widened, "Brody's child?"  

"Yes, Brody's child."  

"Well shit, I better get you on outta here safe then or else the man will come back from the dead and kill me for sure."  

"Are you sure Grant is gone?" Elizabeth questioned and he nodded.  

"Positive."  

"I'll just come out the front then."  

"What about the servants?" Thomas asked.  

"I'll come out quietly," she replied and she closed the window.  

Elizabeth looked around the room but there wasn't anything here that she wanted to take with her. She did however want some different clothes. Escape would only be harder with this stupid, poofy dress. She pulled a pin from her hair and used it to pick open the bedroom door lock. She opened it silently and then tip toed down the hall. She stopped outside the room that she knew belonged to Grant. She knew because he had told her he was sleeping just down the hall from her on several occasions.  

She walked into the room and opened the wardrobe. She slipped out of her dress and petticoats and pulled on a pair of his trousers. They were too big in the waist but she grabbed  a belt that was also hanging there and cinched it tight around her hips. Then she pulled on a black button down shirt and tucked it into the pants.  

She slipped back into the hallway and stopped in her room long enough to grab her boots. She carried them in her hand and crept barefoot down the steps. The house was silent. The servants were sleeping. She was amazed at how easy it was. She just opened the front door and walked out into the night. Thomas was at her side in seconds and he led her toward the forest.  

"I've got a horse waiting," he assured her. He looked at her flat stomach and frowned, "You can ride can't you?"  

"Yes. I can ride."

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-Two

"So where are we going?" Thomas asked at dawn the next morning as the two of them sat beside the small campfire and munched on the jerked beef he'd brought along in his saddlebag.  

Elizabeth laid her hand over her stomach and shrugged as she stared sadly into the fire, "I don't know."  

"Well you can't go back to the ranch that's for sure."  

"Is my pa really dead?" she asked softly.  

"I'm afraid so Miss Mcr... Mrs. Atkinson," he replied awkwardly.  

"Elizabeth. Call me Elizabeth. If there was one thing Brody made me realize, it was that I was a bit of a bitch."  

"No ma'am." Thomas argued. "You just had to show everyone that you were the boss."  

Elizabeth gave him a small half smile, "Thanks for being nice."

 She picked up a stick and poked at the fire while trying to think of where she could possibly go. According to Grant, the entire world, other than Grant, Thomas and Rene, thought that Elizabeth McCready-Atkinson was dead, "I don't have anywhere to go, Thomas. I don't have any family left."  

Thomas thought for a moment and then shifted positions and leaned back against the tree behind him, "What about Brody's family? If y'all was married then they're your family now too."  

Elizabeth hadn't thought of that before and at first she felt a sliver of hope but then shook her head, "I have no proof that I was Brody's wife. The preacher gave us the signed paper but Brody had it and when they..... When they shot him, I...." Her voice broke slightly and she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. The only man who had ever seen her cry was Brody and she didn't like looking weak.  

"You saw him get killed?" Thomas demanded with shock. He hadn't realized that she had witnessed the murder and suddenly her broken spirit made perfect sense. Who wouldn't be broken after seeing the person they loved be gunned down?  

Elizabeth felt tears sting her eyes and blinked them back, only to find that when she closed her eyes she saw that bullet tearing into Brody's broad chest. She heard him yelling desperately at her to run. She saw him throwing himself in front of Petey to keep the second bullet, that was meant for her, from finding its mark.  

"It was horrible," she choked out and her chin began to quiver with the effort she was using to hold back her tears. "They shot him three times, and still he tried to fight them. Then they kicked him, they kicked him while he was helpless. What kind of monsters do that?!"  

"The bad kind," Thomas offered.  

"He died for me, Thomas," Elizabeth needed to get all of this out. She needed to let out her tears and her pain. She needed to share her sorrow with someone else.  

Thomas was startled by her sudden tears. Elizabeth had always been icy, proud and hard. This sudden feminine show of emotion had him feeling as uncomfortable and awkward as a cowboy caught naked at the rodeo.  

"He wanted me to run," Elizabeth whispered as she swiped desperately at her cheeks to dry them, only to have them become drenched again by the new tears. "He was gonna use his body to shield me and fight them men off long enough for me to get away. But I couldn't run.. I wanted to save him! It's my fault he's dead... He died because he was with me..." 	Elizabeth broke down into heart wrenching sobs that shook her whole body and Thomas knew he had to do something to comfort her. So he did the only thing that any man could do when a woman was overcome with tears.

 He moved to the other side of the fire, sat beside her and pulled her into his arms. She gripped him with so much force that it hurt, (not that he'd admit that to her), and she sobbed against his chest for a long time. The sun was burning through the mist when she finally composed herself and pulled away.  

"I'm sorry," she gasped as she flamed red with embarrassment and went back to poking the dying fire.  

Thomas shook his head and smiled slightly, "I ain't never been in love, Elizabeth, but I hope when I fall in love, it's with a woman that loves me as much as you love Brody."  

Elizabeth knew that if she tried to say something in response, she would burst into tears again and that was something she couldn't allow herself to do.  

"Anyway--" Thomas said as he stood up and wiped off his pants. "I think we should go to Brody's family. The worst that can happen is they'll say they don't believe you and send you on your way and if that happens then you ain't any worse off than you are now."

 Elizabeth knew he was right. It was the only choice that she had, "They live outside of Harmony, Virginia."  

"Then Harmony, Virginia is where we're heading." Thomas said, trying to smile and lighten her mood.  

---

"Is that the ranch?" LeRoy asked as the big house and barns came into view. Brody gave a barely distinguishable nod. LeRoy had never seen such a cold, hate filled look on any persons face. LeRoy felt sorry for whatever poor sap Brody was coming here for.  

"Who are we here for?" he asked.  

"Braxton, Anita and Ernest." Brody replied coldly.

"A woman? You're gonna kill a woman?"  

Brody nodded again and flicked the reigns to start down the hill toward the ranch. LeRoy shook his head and sent a silent prayer up to God to forgive his grief crazed friend for the future sins he was about to commit.  

LeRoy had only come along to try to keep the man alive. Brody had saved his life more than once in the war. As a matter of fact the scars on LeRoys face were from a mortar round that would have taken his life if Brody hadn't knocked him out of the way. He owed his life to Brody. He'd been working hard over the last few years to live his life in a way that would please God. Surely God would want him to offer his friend what guidance he could.  

"You shouldn't kill these people, Brody," LeRoy said suddenly. "It won't bring your wife back and it won't get you any closer to heaven"  

"You're free to leave," Brody replied sternly. "I got killing to do." Brody urged his horse faster. He didn't want to hear anything about heaven or God. As far as he was concerned God could rot in hell along with the rest of the murderers of the world. God had taken his wife away and Brody would never forgive that son of a bitch.  

LeRoy shook his head and followed behind him, "I tried." he whispered up at the sky.   

The first person they met was Cookie, who looked shocked when he saw Brody, "Boy I thought you was dead!" he exclaimed as Brody jumped from his horse, and landed firmly on the dusty ground. Pain shot through his leg but he didn't let a single ounce of that discomfort show on his rock hard face.  

"I'm looking for Anita, Ernest and Braxton."  

"What for?" Cookie asked suspiciously as he watched the other man get down from his horse. Cookie had been around a long time and he knew what a man with killing on his mind looked like. Brody was definitely a man with killing on his mind.  

"You know why I'm here, Cookie. They killed her and, by God, I aim to kill them back."  

Cookie nodded. The story had gotten out at the ranch, "Some of the killing's already been done for ya. Anita's dead, she shot herself the same day that Ernest's lungs finally gave out on him and he took his last breath."  

"Where's that son of a bitch at?" Brody asked in a cool, monotone voice and Cookie didn't have to ask who.  

"In the house. The other hands are in the fields. You won't be bothered."  

Brody nodded and without another word he headed for the house with LeRoy on his heels, "Brody, Jesus loves you. Don't do this. Revenge won't bring her back."  

"You're either with me or against me, LeRoy, and if you get in my way, I'll kill you too."  

"I ain't gonna get in your way, Brody," LeRoy assured him. This wasn't the Brody he remembered. This man was alive for one thing and that was revenge. Nothing was going to stop Brody from killing who he thought needed to be killed and God help those that stood in his way.  

Brody walked into the house and didn't hesitate before walking up the stairs to Ernest's old office. He paused in the hallway remembering the day he'd carried Ernest to his room and the fire and intensity he'd felt from that feisty cowgirl he had loved so much. He squared his shoulders and kicked open the office door.  

"What the hell?" Braxton shouted ,standing up and then all the color drained from his face as Brody crossed the room. Before Braxton could speak or comprehend what was happening Brody's fist came down hard on the big mans face and he fell to the ground in an unconscious heap.  

---

The smell of burning wood brought Braxton back to consciousness. He looked around to find that he was still in the office but there was now a large fire roaring in the fireplace.

"I'm over here," Brody's voice came to him.  

Braxton looked across the room and saw Brody standing there with pure hatred in his green eyes. The fire was reflecting on his face casting shadows across him as if he were Satan himself.  

"What's going on?" Braxton demanded as he tried to get out of the chair and realized he was tied to it, "You're supposed to be dead!"  

"I am dead, Braxton. And so is my wife."  

"Wife...?" Braxton's eyes flew to the other man, a dirty, scarred up piece of work who was sitting in an armchair across the room with his hands folded as if deep in prayer or thought.  

Brody snapped his fingers to bring Braxton's attention back to him. He picked up a branding iron and smiled coldly, "Yes, my wife. You killed her. You killed her just so you could have this ranch."  

"No, I didn't kill anybody...."  

"Shut-up!" Brody bellowed. He swung the branding iron and it hit Braxton hard in the face, causing a pain like he had never felt before. Braxton felt blood trickling down his cheek where his skin had been laid open.  

"You're going to die today, Braxton. But before you do, you're going to do me a favor," Brody stepped closer to the fire and stuck the branding iron deep inside the flames.  

"What do you want, Brody?" Braxton pleaded, "I'll give you whatever you want, just don't kill me."  

"That's not part of the deal. You're dying."  

"Then why the hell would I do anything for you?" Braxton demanded. He squared his shoulders and glared at Brody but quickly felt his bravado failing when he was met with Brody's ice cold gaze.  

"Because I can cause you pain, Braxton. Lots of pain. I'm going to make you scream, just the way my wife screamed. I'm going to make you beg for your life the way she begged for mine."  

Brody's voice was void of any emotion as he spoke and it sent a shiver down Braxton's spine, "But you're alive! Come on you barely knew the girl..."  

"You're wrong. I'm dead. My soul died in that dust. It poured out of me just like my wife's blood poured out of her."  

Braxton was nearly in tears now. He was going to die. "What do you want Brody. We can work a deal," he whimpered with desperation.  

"You're a pathetic coward, but I'll deal with that later. First we get down to business." Brody grabbed a piece of paper off the desk and Braxton recognized the deed to the ranch, "You're going to write a note on the back of this deed, giving this ranch to me. You're going to sign and date it and my friend here is going to be witness."  

"Go to hell!" Braxton spat, even as his bottom lip quivered with fear. He wasn't a tough man. He wasn't a fighter. He was a planner and a schemer. He hired men to do his dirty work for him.  

Brody's lips formed a thin line and he grabbed the branding iron from the fire, "What are you doing?!" Braxton cried as Brody brought the red hot brand toward his face.  

"You love this ranch so much, I'm gonna make sure the world knows it," Brody stuck the brand to Braxton's forehead and his pain filled screams echoed across the office as the smell of burning flesh overwhelmed the air.  

"Jesus, Brody!" LeRoy exclaimed as Brody pulled the brand away and stuck it back in the fire, leaving Braxton whimpering and crying at the desk.  

"Do you want more or will you write the damn note?"  

Braxton nodded and Brody untied one of his hands from the chair. Braxton grabbed the pen and quickly wrote out the note Brody wanted, praying that somehow this would save him.  

LeRoy came over and signed the note as a witness and Brody folded the letter and stuck it in his pocket, "Where's Grant?" Brody asked.  

"I don't know." Braxton lied and Brody reached for the poker. "No please don't! Grant went to Virginia! I have his address!"  

"Where?"  

"Over there!" Braxton pointed to the filing cabinet.  

Brody walked across the room and rifled through the papers until he found what he was looking for. He folded that paper as well and stuck it in his pocket.  

Then he walked to Braxton and untied the mans other hand. Brody pulled his revolver from his gun belt and Braxton realized that Brody had taken his gun back. It was the .44 army colt with the rebel flag carving that he held in his hand.  

"Outside," Brody said sternly.  

"Why?" Braxton whimpered.

 Brody stuck the gun against Braxton's burnt forehead and the man screamed in pain, "Outside," he hissed.

 Braxton nodded and nearly stumbled over his feet in his haste to please the angry man. Maybe, just maybe, Brody would have mercy on him.  

Cookie stepped out of the barn as Brody, Braxton and LeRoy came outside into the bright sunlight. Braxton cried out as the sunlight hit his freshly burned forehead and caused it to heat up and fill with a fiery pain. 	No one knew what Brody was up to when he pulled the extra gun from the waistband of his pants and handed it to Braxton before slipping his colt back into its holster, "It's your lucky day, Braxton. I'm feeling generous."

 He turned his back on the man and Braxton licked his lips. No! He would not let Brody take this ranch, disfigure him and then walk away. He'd put a bullet in that mans back if that's what he had to do! He'd kill that ghost for good this time.  

Brody heard the gun cock. He dropped to his knee and spun. The bullet missed him by a mile and Brody pulled his own gun and sent a bullet straight into Braxton's head, causing most of the mans face to disappear at such close range.  

"Sorry about the mess, Cookie. You can run my ranch while I'm gone," Brody said as he holstered his revolver.

Cookie nodded and scratched at his white hair, "I'll make sure Braxton's idiot brother knows it was self defense. Braxton fired the first shot." Brody nodded his thanks. "Now go get the rest of those bastards responsible for taking that beautiful girl away from us."

 Brody turned and strode toward his horse. He was little more than a walking corpse. He felt nothing. He felt no remorse, no happiness, no sense of triumph. He was dead inside. Brody Atkinson had died on the road that day, and all that was left was a hate filled shell of a man who had thought he'd finally found happiness, only to have it shot down right in front of him.  

He gripped the cross hanging from his neck and silently vowed to Elizabeth that he'd avenge her death. One down, four to go.  

"You gave the man a chance to defend himself. I knew you wasn't a cold blooded murderer," LeRoy said, sounding very relieved, as they rode away from the ranch.  

"I promised Elizabeth, just before she died, that I wouldn't kill Braxton or Anita unless it was self defense. I always keep my word."  

"What about the others?" LeRoy asked.  

"Their names weren't never mentioned as part of the deal her and I made," Brody replied with a shrug. "So I figure I get a free pass on them." 	LeRoy shook his head and again prayed to God for his friends forgiveness.  

---

"You can put the gun away, Mr. Atkinson. I do not need to be threatened at gunpoint. I can assure you that I am quite chicken enough to do whatever you want without the threat of violence," Attroney Paul Goddard's dry voice drolled.

 Brody looked at the colt in his hand and then holstered it as he shrugged, "Sorry, it's a habit."  

"So, what can I do for you?" Paul asked as he straightened his suit jacket and smoothed his thinning, slicked back hair.  

Brody pulled his new hat down tighter on his head and then took the folded note from Braxton from his pocket and handed it to the attorney who pushed his thin framed glasses up on his nose and read it over.  

"He gave you the ranch?"  

"Yep."  

"Willingly?" Paul asked with disbelief.  

"Willingly enough."  

Paul nodded quickly. He had no desire to fight with this man who was nearly a foot taller than him and clearly used to getting his way. "You were the witness?" he asked the other man who looked equally scary in appearance though was lacking the coldness in his eyes.  

"Sure was," he replied.  

"Okay then. I'll notarize this and have the deed reprinted in your name, Mr. Atkinson. Is there anything else I can do for you?" Paul asked, hoping that there wasn't and these men would leave his office.  

"Yes. Did Ernest McCready leave anything to his daughter in his will?"  

"That's hardly any of your business, sir." Paul replied.  

Brody pulled the marriage document from his pocket and handed it to the attorney, feeling his heart crack anew as he looked at Elizabeth's delicate signature on the paper next to his. He remembered how she had smiled and teased him about being Mr. McCready as she had signed her new name.  

Brody shook his head to clear the memories and pain away and filled himself back up with the hate that would get him through his current mission of vengeance.  

"You were Elizabeth's husband." Paul stated with shock.  

"Yes."  

"I'm so sorry for you loss, Mr. Atkinson," Paul whispered sadly. He suddenly understood the man. It was well known what had happened on that ranch. It was well known that Braxton had directly led to the McCready girls death. Paul suddenly understood that look on Brody's face and he realized in that moment that Braxton was no longer alive.  

Brody shifted his feet, "Me too."

 Paul cleared his throat and handed the marriage document back to Brody, who folded it up as gently as if it was his most precious treasure, and put it back in his vest pocket, "Mr. McCready left a large sum of money in an account for his daughter. It has been sitting there, stuck in limbo, unable to be accessed by anyone since she died."  

"I want it transferred to an account with my name on it. And then I want to sign something saying that if something happens to me, the money goes to a Jacob Atkinson in Harmony, Virginia."  

"Of course. I will take care of that for you, Mr. Atkinson."  

Brody nodded, "Just take your fee from the account. I need a hundred dollars cash from it too."  

Paul tipped his head and walked around the two men, "Follow me to the bank and we'll take care of that."  

Paul left the tiny office and Brody cursed the aching in his leg as he and LeRoy followed after the small, quick footed man.  

---

"Let's ride out," Brody said as he and LeRoy finished filling their saddlebags with ammunition and supplies.  

"Where we going?"  

"I heard some men talking about the next man I'm looking for. He's been staying about a week's ride east of here in a little town called Gripton. That's where we're headed."  

"LeRoy jumped into the saddle, "Alright then."

 Brody was about to get on his own horse when Sheriff Willie's voice came from behind him, "You're under arrest, Brody."  

Brody let out an irritated growl and turned around, sticking his thumbs through his belt loops and looking down his nose at the man who was standing twenty feet away, "Why's that?"

"Cold blooded murder."  

"That was self defense, Sheriff. Just ask Cookie at the ranch. Or you can ask LeRoy here. They both witnessed what happened. I had my back turned and your yellow bellied, woman killer of a brother tried to put a bullet in me."  

"Liar." Willie hissed.  

"You look like you wanna pull that gun, Sheriff. Pull it. I dare you."  

For a moment Brody thought maybe the weak-spined Sheriff was going to grow a pair but then he quickly took a step back and shook his head, "No. Maybe it was self defense," he muttered as he licked his lips nervously and his shifty eyes looked side to side.

 Brody just shook his head with disgust and spit in the dirt in the Sheriff's direction, before mounting his horse and riding out of town with LeRoy beside him.

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-Three

It took three days for Elizabeth and Thomas to reach Harmony, Virginia. Thomas had a little extra money and he was standing inside the Tailor's shop with Elizabeth as she tried to decide what she should get to wear to introduce herself to Jacob and his sisters.  

"Should I buy a fancy dress so they think I'm a lady? Or should I just get a plain dress, so I don't look like I'm trying to impress them or trick them?? Thomas help me!" Elizabeth exclaimed, throwing her arms up with frustration.  

In the last three days Thomas and Elizabeth had become close. He was like the brother that she had never had. He smiled as he shook his head and fingered a lacy silver dress hanging from the rack, "Just don't get this one. You'd look like a damn church bell."  

Elizabeth shook her head and slapped his arm, "Help me!"  

 The tailor, an older, stern looking woman with deep wrinkles and a pinched mouth that made her look like she' d been sucking a lemon, leaned against the counter impatiently.  

Thomas shrugged, "I think you should buy ya some britches that fit, and a shirt that's clean and go that way. We'll even get ya your own hat so I can have mine back," he added, running his hand through his thick, sandy colored hair.  

Elizabeth bit her lip uncertainly, "Are you sure?"  

"Men in the bunkhouse talk, Liz. Brody always made it clear that no fancy, spoiled woman, in a pretty dress would ever make him fall in love and he was telling the truth. It took a tough cowgirl in pants and boots to get the job done. If his family knew him, they'd never believe you if you showed up in a fancy dress."

 Elizabeth gave him a grateful smile and then turned to the tailor, who stood up straight and looked ready for business, "I need some new pants," Elizabeth stated looking down at Grant's pants that were much too large. "And I need a shirt."  

The tailor looked down her birdlike nose and her lips pursed even more, "Hardly the proper attire for a proper lady."  

Elizabeth shrugged, "I never said I was a proper lady,"  

 The tailor looked at her as if she was the craziest person she had ever met and Thomas rolled his eyes, "Dear God, woman, what is your problem? The woman wants a pair of pants and a shirt! It's not that strange of a request. It's not like a man come in here asking for a poofy dress and petticoats! Just give her some clothes."  

Elizabeth looked over at Thomas. Typical man, standing up for her and trying to fight her battle. Brody would have stood there and let her fight her own battle. Heck he might have sided with the tailor just to ruffle Elizabeth's feathers a bit. Her heart broke apart in her chest as she thought about Brody.  

God she missed him.  

---

The tailor gave them directions to Jacob's house and as Elizabeth rode behind Thomas with her arms wrapped tight around his waist, she couldn't fight off her nervousness. What if Jacob didn't believe her? What if he laughed at her and told her to get off his property? Where would she go? What would she do?  

"I think we're coming up on the house, Liz," Thomas warned.

 Elizabeth looked over his shoulder and saw the tiny cabin, nestled in the pines at the foot of a large mountain. There was a small barn, made of worn wood and several horses walking around in the corral behind the barn. Elizabeth could smell the pigs in the pen and she could hear a cows mooing coming from inside the barn.  

As they got closer, Elizabeth saw two young girls, who she assumed were Brody's twelve year old twin sisters, Susie and Sally. They were hanging a basket full of clothes on a line outside of the cabin. When the girls noticed Thomas and Elizabeth riding in, one of them took off running to the barn with her blond curls bouncing wildly and her worn out cotton dress whipping around her legs.  

Thomas pulled the horse to a stop and he and Elizabeth jumped down. Thomas wrapped his arm around her shoulder to offer her support but she pulled away from him and squared her shoulders, reminding him that she was a damn tough woman who liked to look strong.   

Elizabeth felt her breath catch in her throat when Jacob came out of the barn. She knew it had to be Jacob because he looked too much like Brody to be anyone else. He was tall and broad shouldered just like Brody. His hair was the same dark brown, only his was cut close to his head and looked neat, not wild and untamable like Brody's hair. His face was clean shaven and smooth, lacking the rugged scar and some of the sharp lines that Brody had but his lips were firm and straight like his brothers, his nose long and his eyes the same dark green.  

There was a difference in his eyes though. Jacob's eyes were warm and inviting; comforting in some strange way. Whereas Brody's had always been sharp, intense, and had sent waves of heat coursing through her.  

"Can I help you folks?" Jacob asked as Susie and Sally both stood behind him with smiles on their faces. They looked different from their brothers. They were blond with blue eyes and soft features.  

"My name is Thomas," Thomas said reaching out and giving Jacob a firm handshake. He could tell that Elizabeth needed a moment to compose herself after seeing this man who looked so much like Brody.  

"Nice to meet you," Jacob replied and then he looked at the woman. He'd never seen a woman dressed in trousers and a man's shirt before. She was a pretty woman with delicate features, beneath the hat on her head and a long blond braid hanging down her back. Her body was nice and her hips were tempting in those pants. He looked back at the man standing beside her, who barely looked more than a boy, and wondered if they were married.  

"My name is Elizabeth," Elizabeth said, finally coming out of her daze.  

"What can I do for you both?" Jacob asked again after he shook Elizabeth's hand.  

Elizabeth took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, "I need your help." Jacob raised a brow in a way so much like his brother and then motioned for the girls to get back to their chores and they giggled, and ran back to the clothes line.  

"I try to help those I can, but I'm afraid we don't have much in the way of money. What is it you need?" he asked, eying the gun on Thomas's hip.  

"Your brother....."  

"You know Brody?" Jacob interrupted.  

Elizabeth nodded, "My name is Elizabeth Atkinson. I'm his... wife," she replied, unable to bring herself to say she was his widow.  

Jacob's shock was plain on his face, "Wife?" he said as he scratched his head. "My brother never told me he got married."  

Elizabeth could hear the doubt in his voice, "I'm not lying, Jacob," she assured him. Her mind raced as she tried to think of things she could tell him to convince him she'd known his brother well.   

"I didn't tell you my name..." Jacob whispered.  

 "He told me all about you and how you are just like your pa. He told me about Susie and Sally and how he held both of their mouths closed when you all hid under the floor that day. He told me that you never forgave him for leaving and joining the war after your parents and sisters were killed...."  

Jacob held up his hand to stop her desperate rambling, "If you're Brody's wife then why are you with this man and where is my brother? Did he abandon you too?"  

Elizabeth felt anger fill her and she rose to her full height and glared up at Jacob with her fists clenched at her sides, "There is no if about it, Mr, Atkinson, I am Brody's wife.  Or at least I was until he sacrificed himself to protect me and was shot dead in the dust right beside me!"

Jacob stumbled back several steps and cast a quick glance at his sisters who were staring at Elizabeth with shock, "Brody's dead?" Jacob gasped.  

He couldn't say he was surprised that Brody was dead, given the life his younger brother had been living, but he was shocked to learn that he had died protecting his wife. And Jacob had no doubt that this woman was Brody's wife. She was too much like Brody for there to be any doubts. She was clearly hot-tempered, proud, and strong.  

Thomas saw the fatigue on Elizabeth's face and he looked at Jacob, "Do you think we could come in your house and talk? She could use something cold to drink and some rest seeing as how she's with child."  

"A baby?" Jacob asked looking down at her flat stomach.

  Elizabeth threw Thomas a look that told him she wasn't happy that he had opened his mouth and he grinned guiltily, "You need rest."

Jacob took Elizabeth by the arm gently and led her toward the house, "You can put the horse in the barn, there's some oats and hay in there," he told Thomas. He turned his gaze down to Elizabeth, "You come on in the house with me and the girls. I think there some things we need to talk about."  

---

"Well at least Brody died doing something that would have finally made pa proud," Jacob stated nearly an hour later after Elizabeth had gotten done telling him all about the ranch and what she and Brody had gone through together.  

He, Elizabeth and the girls were sitting at the small kitchen table while Thomas leaned against the wall beside the fireplace and ran his fingers over his empty holster. Jacob had refused to let him bring his gun in the house so it was lying out on the porch.  

"Brody was a good man," Elizabeth insisted, not liking the way Jacob seemed to have so much judgment toward his brother.  

"Brody did not live as a good man," Jacob countered.  

"That's not fair!" Sally spoke up. "Brody did what he thought he had to do. And he's always made sure to send us money."  

Jacob snorted, "Brody was a murderer."

"Brody was in a war," Elizabeth spat, rising to her feet as her temper spiked, "Brody gave his life to save his wife. I think that makes up for any mistakes he may have made."  

She looked over at Thomas and he walked to her side, "We're leaving, Thomas. I'll find somewhere else to go." Thomas nodded and they started for the door.  

Sally and Susie threw Jacob angry looks. They wanted this woman to stay. It would be nice to have a woman around. Jacob sighed and stood quickly as he rubbed his face with his hand, "Please stay!" he called out.  

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks and turned slowly, "I won't stay and listen to you say bad things about my husband."  

Jacob nodded and held his hands up as a peace offering, "I shouldn't have said what I did. I'm sorry. You're family now and you need help, so stay. It'll be nice to have a little piece of Brody back on the farm. I might not have agreed with the way my brother lived the last nine years of his life but I did love him just the same."  

"Thank you for the apology," Elizabeth felt suddenly drained as she looked up at Jacob, "I promise that I'll pull my own weight around here." 	Jacob turned his attention to Thomas, "You can stay here too, for as long as you want. It'll be nice to have another man around here to help out." 	Thomas simply nodded in response. He hadn't been leaving anyway. Not until he knew that Elizabeth was going to be okay and with that haunted look constantly shining in her green eyes, he knew she wasn't okay yet.  

"I'll show you where you can sleep!" Sally said excitedly as she grabbed Elizabeth's hand and Elizabeth smiled for the first time since Brody's death and let the girl lead out of the kitchen.

---

Elizabeth found herself crying less and less everyday that she spent with Jacob and the girls. Sometimes when she looked at Jacob she would see Brody and it would cause a loneliness and an ache so deep in her heart that she would have to excuse herself and go sit alone in her room for while. She missed Brody so much, but she told herself everyday that somehow she was going to be okay.  

She been living here for four days and everyday it got just a little bit easier to pull herself out of bed in the morning. She had Brody's child growing inside of her. A piece of him that she couldn't wait to hold and love. That alone gave her the strength she needed to carry through each day.  

 Elizabeth pulled on her clothes and walked out into the kitchen to help Sally the best she could with dinner, though cooking still wasn't her strongest talent.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

Elizabeth's soft hands danced across his bare chest, sending shockwaves of heat and pleasure through his body. Brody wrapped his arms around her and rolled on the feather tick mattress, pulling her slender body on top of his. The sheets were tangled around them and both of them were slick with sweat as their heartbeats slowly returned to normal. 


Elizabeth's thick blond hair fell in her face and Brody pushed it out of the way before pulling her face down to his to kiss her tenderly. She gazed down at him lovingly and then he saw her jaw get that stubborn set and her eyes flashed with annoyance. 


He couldn't help but smile, "Why do I feel like I'm about to get yelled at?" 


 She braced her hands on his chest and shook her head, "I won't yell." 


"What have I done?" 


"You killed someone, Brody." 


Brody sighed and would have moved his gaze away from her if he wasn't so absorbed in the beauty and softness of her body, "He deserved what he got, Elizabeth." he said in defense of himself. "And I didn't break my word to you. I gave him a gun and turned my back to give him a chance." 


"You knew he wouldn't be fast enough to be any real competition." 


"I wouldn't have turned my back if I'd of thought he was really gonna kill me." 


Elizabeth raised her brow, "What about the torture?" 


"What torture?" Brody asked as he tried to move his mouth to her tight, swollen, kiss reddened nipples and she moved them just out of his reach. 


"You branded his head," she reminded him, with that no nonsense, ice queen tone to her voice. 


"Dammit woman, I'm trying to enjoy my dream, quit jumping my ass," Brody growled as he again tried to get to her breasts and again she moved them away. 


"Brody..." she warned. 


"I figured since he liked that damn ranch so much, he might as well have a permanent reminder to take to hell with him." Elizabeth rolled her eyes and moved off of him, curling on her side against his body. 


Brody buried one hand in her hair and stroked her long,  slender arm with the other, "I miss you," he whispered, not bothering to hide the emotions or tears in his voice. This was only a dream after all and there was no one to see him so weak. 


"I miss you too," Elizabeth replied. 


"I wasn't ready to lose you, boss. I still need you."  


She looked up at him and wiped away his tears with her small hand, "You'll see me again someday Brody. Until then, I want you to promise me something." 


"I thought I said you only get one a year?" he teased and then he saw the seriousness on her face and he frowned. "What?"  


"You won't......" 


"Brody, wake the hell up! If we're going to the saloon, let's go." 	LeRoy's voice woke Brody from his dream and he growled as he sat up in the hard, cheap, hotel bed, "If you ever wake me up again, I will shoot you in the face," Brody threatened.  

He quickly wiped off his face and flamed with embarrassment when he felt the wetness from his tears. He looked at the other man and the look he saw on his face before he quickly turned away let Brody know that LeRoy knew exactly what he'd been dreaming about.  

Brody stood up and walked over to the wash basin. He threw some of the water over his face and scrubbed the tears away before drying himself on a stiff cotton towel hanging on the wall. He grabbed his hat off the bed post and stuck it on his head before tying a black bandana over his face to hide his identity. He didn't want Rene recognizing him before he was good and ready.  He cinched his gun belt around his lean hips, checked the chamber of his colt to ensure the gun was loaded and then looked at LeRoy as he holstered the weapon.  

"Let's go."  

They walked into the brightly lit, noise filled saloon and Brody scanned the room as he followed LeRoy up to the bar and sat down. He ordered a whiskey and then turned to face the room full of men. Rene wasn't here and Brody leaned his back against the bar to wait. He knew Rene would show up eventually and he had the rest of his life to wait on the man.  It had taken nearly a week to get here and they'd been waiting in this saloon every night for four nights, watching for the man.  

Brody knew Rene would show up because he'd heard some other men talking about him the first night he'd been here. He had also heard those men say that Petey was dead. They hadn't said how he had died but Brody had felt a desperate rage fill him, knowing he wouldn't be able to kill the man who had taken Elizabeth's life.  He would just have to make sure that Rene suffered enough to make up for it.  

A busty saloon woman in a tight, dark blue dress that barely covered her thighs and was cut so low in the chest that her dark nipples were nearly visible, walked over to him, wiggling her shapely hips. Brody quickly turned his head away and continued to scan the saloon. He had neither an interest or an urge to take anything that this woman might have to offer.  

She seemed to sense his disinterest so instead she turned to LeRoy. She was obviously a well experienced woman, because she didn't even bat an eye at his scars before sitting down on LeRoy's lap and asking the bartender for a beer for her new 

friend .

"Jesus is watching you, LeRoy. Ain't that what you always tell me?" Brody asked as he  lifted his bandana long enough to down his shot of whiskey and then lowered it back in place.

"I ain't doing nothing wrong," LeRoy replied with indignation as he ran his hand over the smooth, pale skin of the woman's bare leg.  

"So your God don't want me getting vengeance for my wife but he ain't got a problem with you cuddling up to a whore?" 	

"He's your God too, Brody."  

Brody shook his head and stood up, "Not anymore."  

Brody walked away to the back of the saloon where he could sit without having to listen to any more preaching from LeRoy. That man was nothing but a pest. Brody didn't want to hear that what he was doing was wrong.  

He had so much hate coiling and burning in his gut that he didn't know what else he wasn't supposed to do with all of it. He would kill everyone that had had anything to do with Elizabeth's death. He had thought about taking Grant off that list until he'd gone through Braxton's files. He'd seen that Braxton had given a piece of the ranch to Grant and that told Brody all he needed to know. Grant had been a part of the whole thing.  

Brody's attention was suddenly drawn to the swinging doors and the hate in his gut engulfed his entire body and he shook with sudden rage when Rene walked into the saloon. Brody's fists clenched and unclenched as he fought the urge to pull his revolver and end the man's life now.  

It wouldn't do any good to just kill him right now though. He still needed to find out the identity of the fourth man who had helped abduct him and Elizabeth from the ranch.  

Seconds, became minutes. Minutes became hours. And with every passing round of the clock hands, Brody felt his hatred and rage growing. Rene laughed and joked. He drank beers and played poker. It was as if the fact that he had helped kill an innocent woman didn't bother him in the least. It hadn't cost him a single second of sleep or a single moment of regret.  

When Rene finally rose from the table, glossy eyed and clearly drunk, Brody shadowed his movements and followed the man silently out the door. 	He heard LeRoy walk up behind him as he watched Rene ride out of town, "Is that him?"  

"Yeah, that's him," Brody replied, his voice full of ice and venomous hatred.  

"Will it do me any good to tell you that you don't have to do this?" LeRoy asked and Brody shook his head. LeRoy sighed and then both men mounted their horses that they'd left hitched outside the saloon.  

There was only a half moon to light the darkened ground but Brody had learned how to track very well in his life. Rene's horse had a loose shoe and so his tracks were easy to follow. Brody saw the glow of a lantern in the distance and the outline of a shack. He held up his hand to signal to LeRoy that he was stopping and then both men dismounted their horses.  

"You stay here," Brody said sternly as he pulled the bandana off his face.  

"You shouldn't ..."  

Brody's eyes flashed with anger, "You chose to come with me, LeRoy. I'm sick and tired of your preaching. Now either shut up or go home." LeRoy nodded and sat down on a boulder.  

"I'll be here waiting." he replied, deciding that there was no use trying to help someone who didn't want to help themselves.   

Brody stuck to the shadows and through the lantern lit window he saw Rene standing inside, wearing nothing but his trousers and scratching at his stomach sleepily. The man had clearly had too much to drink and was now planning on sleeping it off... Too bad he'd never live long enough to be completely sober again.

Brody didn't hesitate and he didn't try to sneak. He strode right to the door and kicked it open. Rene reached for his gun on the table but Brody put a bullet through his wrist and the man screamed in pain and jumped back.  

"You!" Rene hissed as recognition dawned in his drunk eyes. "We killed you!"  

"Yes you did. And my wife. And now I'm here to kill you."  

Rene's first instinct was to tell Brody his wife wasn't dead but what would that solve? Either way the man was going to kill him. That much was clear even to him in his whiskey and beer induced haze. Why give Brody any peace of mind? "Kill me then, you bastard. But you got it wrong. I didn't just kill your bitch, first I made her squeal."  

Brody saw red. He swung his gun and caught Rene hard across the temple, causing the man to crumple to the floor in an unconscious heap. Brody dragged the man into a small bedroom and tied him to the bed. He pulled his knife from his boot and then grabbed the pitcher of water from the washstand. He dumped the water over Rene's head and the man came to with a sputter.  

"My fucking arm hurts!" Rene yelled, as the ropes Brody had used to tie him up, dug into the hole Brody's bullet had torn through his wrist. 	

"Do you want sympathy?" Brody asked as he tapped his the cold steel of his knife blade against his cheek

Rene looked at Brody tapping the knife against his cheek and felt a shiver run down his spine as he tried again and again to jerk his arms and legs free of the ropes he'd used to tie him.  

"What do you want?" Rene demanded. "Nothing you do to me is going to bring that bitch back from the dead!"  

"That bitch had a name," Brody said calmly as he stalked toward the bed. The lantern light cast shadows over his face and Rene decided that that must be what the devil looked like.  

"What do you want?!" Rene yelled again.  

Brody sat on the edge of the bed and pressed his knife against the pale, flesh of Rene's stomach, "Who was the fourth man?"  

"Fourth man?" Rene asked, panic and alcohol were clouding his mind but he'd be damned before he broke in front of this jackass. If death was coming he'd take it like a man.  

"Don't play dumb," Brody warned. A flick of his wrist sent the knife deep into Rene's stomach, causing the man to fill the tiny shack with his pain filled screams and fight uselessly against the ropes.  

Brody knew how to tie one hell of a knot; he wasn't worried that Rene would break free. Brody pulled the knife back out and wiped it on the dirty gray blanket, "Tell me who the fourth man is."  

"What fourth man? What are you...talking about?" Rene gasped desperately, forgetting all about his previous vow not to break.  He was desperate for death but he had a feeling that until Brody heard what he wanted to hear, death wasn't going to come.  

"The fourth man that helped abduct my wife and I from the ranch. There was the big guy and that other one that I killed. Your worthless ass and one more. I want to know who he was."  

"If I tell you will you let me live?"  

Brody shook his head and then drove his knife into Rene's stomach again, twisting the blade as Rene's blood came out in a hot rush and covered his hand, "No. But I'll kill you faster."  

Rene screamed and twisted in pain beneath him. Brody removed the knife and again wiped it clean on the bedspread. Sweat trickled down into Rene's eyes and his face was ghost pale and tight with pain as tears gathered in his eyes.  

"Vincent Hale. His name was Vincent Hale. He was headed for Kansas....Please just kill me, just he same as I killed your bitch..."  Rene whimpered. Brody continued to sit there on the edge of the bed looking calm and thoughtful. "Kill me!" Rene screamed.  

Brody stood up and then looked down at Rene. The man was dying. His blood was pouring from his body, soaking the bed and dripping on the wooden floor. Brody had been sure to rip and shred his organs with that last twist of his knife. Way out here, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night? No one would ever hear him scream.  

Brody stuck his knife back in his boot and bent down so he could grip Rene's hair in his hand and jerk the man's head back. Rene cried out in pain.  

"That bitch's name was Elizabeth Atkinson. She was my wife and I loved her more than you've ever loved anything in your entire pathetic life. She was my heartbeat and you took that away. I'm not going to finish you off. I'm going to let you bleed to death, you son of a bitch. Same as you did to me." Brody turned and walked away, shutting the bedroom door behind him.  

He sat down in the lantern light at the kitchen table and propped his feet on the scarred oak table top. He pulled off his hat and buried his face in his hands as Rene's screams of pain and pleas of mercy filled the night air.  

"God, Elizabeth, I'm sorry." Brody whispered into his palms. He had promised her he wouldn't do it but with her gone what reason did he have to be a good man?

Soon the screams grew weak and turned into whimpers and then the whimpers faded into silence. Still Brody sat at the table with his face in his hands. Only when the light of dawn was breaking through the windows did Brody rise from the table. Rene's blood had dried and hardened leaving Brody's hands stuck to his face. He yanked them free and looked around the room.  

The coppery scent of blood and the heavy feeling of death filled the tiny shack and Brody quickly walked out the door and into the early morning air. He walked to the well and quickly drew up a bucket of water, cleaning his face and hands before drying them on his handkerchief and walking to where he'd left LeRoy the night before.  

He found the man sleeping against the boulder he'd sat down on the night before while the horses grazed nearby. Brody shook his head and kicked him in the leg.

"Jesus, Brody, you scared me!" LeRoy exclaimed as his eyes flew open and he looked around.  

"Nice to see you worried about me," Brody replied dryly.  

"I knew you was fine," LeRoy muttered as he stood up and wiped off his backside. "Is he dead?" he asked, tilting his head toward the shack and Brody nodded. "Who's next on this list of yours?"  

"Vincent Hale. Kansas." Brody replied coldly.   

LeRoy whistled, "Kansas is a long way from here. We better get going."  

"You're not coming," Brody countered as he grabbed his horses reigns and jumped into the saddle.  

"What the hell you mean, I'm not coming?" LeRoy demanded angrily.  

"You're going back to that ranch of mine. I want you to make sure it's being run right," Brody replied. He didn't want LeRoy around anymore. He was tired of the man trying to make him feel guilty about what he was doing.  

LeRoy shook his head, "I'd rather come with you."  

"Bye LeRoy," Brody ground out. "Take care of my ranch." His goodbyes said, Brody quickly rode away leaving LeRoy standing there in a cloud of dust.

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Brody's entire body hurt. The November air was cold and put an ache deep in his bones. His shoulder throbbed, his ribs burned when he took a deep breath and his limp was worse today as he walked across the frozen mud. Kansas in November was a cold place. The flat land offered no protection against the icy winter wind.  

Brody tugged on his leather gloves and lifted the collar of his duster coat to protect his neck. His hair had grown back nearly to his shoulders in the four months since he'd cut it.  

Five and a half months since Elizabeth had been killed and instead of lessening the pain, every single day that went by simply increased it tenfold. Every day just made the gnawing ache of loneliness grow larger inside of him. It was like a large, burning sore, that was slowly eating him alive from the inside out.  

Brody had been riding from town to town, from Texas to Kansas over the last few months, searching for Vincent Hale. Now here he was in this tiny farm town with only one saloon and no lawmen. Seemed like the kind of place a hired gun might like to hang out.  

Brody welcomed the warmth that the lanterns, fireplace and bodies provided when he stepped into the saloon. He had his face covered once again to ensure he wouldn't be recognized until he was good and ready to be. He let the swinging doors slam on their hinges and the entire saloon quieted instantly as all the men and the saloon women turned to look at him.   

Now that he had everyone's attention he pulled the bandana from his face, "I'm looking for Vincent Hale!" he called loudly.  

Most of the men shrugged but a few cast quick glances at a tall skinny man standing in the corner, "Hello, Vincent," Brody said to the man.  

"Who the hell are you?" Vincent demanded as he swiped his hand across his large, cold reddened nose.  

"I'm asking the questions here," Brody replied calmly. "I've been looking for you a long time."  

Vincent shifted his feet as the men around him quickly moved back out of the way of any bullets that might start flying, "Well why don't you just ride on out of here and find someone else to look for," Vincent snarled as he lowered his hand so it was resting mere inches from the handle of his revolver.  

Brody shifted his weight to his good leg, "You were involved in the abduction of Elizabeth McCready. You left her and I to rot in the back of a wagon in the summer Texas heat. Is this ringing any bells?"  

 Vincent's blood shot eyes nearly bulged from his head, "I don't know what you're talking about."  

"Oh I think you do," Brody knew this was Vincent Hale and he also knew that this was the fourth man from the wagon. He recognized his voice. "I just realized something else about you too. You're the son of a bitch that shot my arm." Vincent began stuttering and sputtering and Brody knew he'd spoken the truth. He hadn't really known before. He had just wanted to see the mans reaction to his accusation.  

"I suggest you pull that gun and we settle this like men you yellow bellied coward." Brody said with ice in his voice.  

"I ain't a coward!" Vincent bellowed nervously. "I never killed nobody, I rode away."

 Brody's face contorted with rage as he fought to keep from drawing his revolver, "My wife is dead!" he yelled, losing the careful control he'd been holding onto.  "And if you hadn't helped take her from that ranch it probably wouldn't have happened. Now pull your gun you fucking coward or I'll just blow your brains out while you stand there looking addled!" 	Vincent couldn't allow this man to sit here and call him a coward in front of all these men. He knew he was fast enough to probably take this man without much trouble. He sneered at the man and went for his gun but before he had time to even clear leather, the sound of a gunshot filled the air, sending a shockwave that swirled the dust motes floating in the lantern light.  

Vincent felt the bullet tear through his chest, felt it shatter through his ribs, rip through his heart and then blow out the skin of his back. With every beat of his shredded heart, Vincent felt his blood pump from his body.  He fell to his knees as his vision swirled. He supposed he deserved to die. He had shot the man and then left him to die. Vincent coughed and blood flew from his mouth and trickled down his chin. He watched the man, realizing he didn't even know his name, holster his gun, spit on the ground in Vincent's direction and then turn and walk out of the saloon, into the dark, cold, night air.  

Vincent took one last breath of life and then fell face first and lifeless on the dirty wooden floor as his blood pooled beneath him.  

---

Brody walked across the frozen ground, his limp more pronounced in this cold weather.  His breath wrapped around his head in a white fog. He stood beside his waiting horse at the livery hitching post for several long moments. Slowly Brody rubbed at the aching bone in his thigh and rolled the muscles of his shoulder. Just one man left now and this would be over. Brody's eyes flashed with rage in the Kansas night as he swung himself into the saddle with one fluid motion and pointed his horse to the east.  

Grant Foster had no idea that the devil himself was coming his way.  

---

Elizabeth sat in front of the roaring fire and held back the drool that was threatening to pour from her mouth as the scent of baked ham filled the tiny cabin. She looked down at her sewing, resting on her ever expanding belly and sighed. By her estimates she was nearly six months along and all she wanted to do lately was eat and sleep and cry. Her emotions were mess and she blamed it on her condition.  

She picked her sewing back up and shook her head at the rip she was mending in Sally's dress. Sewing was the one feminine chore that her father had insisted she master and Elizabeth had mastered it well. She only wished she had the money to buy the girls new dresses instead of patching up these old worn out ones.  

"You sure there's just one baby in that belly, Liz?" Sally asked as she came and sat in the couch beside the armchair Elizabeth was resting in. 	Elizabeth smiled. Everyone here had begun calling her Liz, following Thomas's lead. She hadn't liked it at first but it was growing on her. A new name for her new life.  

"I can't say for sure." she replied and she looked at the girl warmly as she laid hand on her belly, waiting for movement. "The baby, or babies, are being quiet right now," Elizabeth smiled down at her stomach, "It, or they, wait until I'm trying to sleep before they wake up and start beating at my ribs."  

"It could be twins you know," Susie offered from where she was kneading her dough for bread. "Sally and I are twins and so were Catherine and Christine. It runs in the family."   

"Two pieces of Brody," Elizabeth whispered as a tear formed in the corner of her eyes and she stroked her belly lovingly.  

"Sally, get over here and help me! Jacob and Thomas will be home from town shortly and we need to have supper ready!" Susie exclaimed and Sally jumped to her feet and went to help her sister.  

Elizabeth stared into the fire and thought about the word home. Home had always been the ranch. With her father, Anita, Braxton and the other hands. Elizabeth felt a dull ache in her chest as she thought about her father. She wished she could have been there with him when he died. The only thing that dulled the pain was that she had known for months that he was going to die.  

The sense of betrayal and hurt over Anita and Braxton's treachery was a different story. Anita had raised her. That woman had tucked her into bed at night. Sung her lullabies when she couldn't sleep. Doctored her many cuts and scrapes and even her broken arm when she'd been six and fallen out of the loft in the barn. And Braxton? He had helped teach her to ride. He had helped her learn to herd cattle and brand calves. The fact that those people had wanted her dead and had led to Brody's death made her angry enough to wish them dead.... Then she felt guilty for wishing such a thing. Evil didn't fix evil and violence never truly solved a problem.  

She would let Braxton and Anita have the ranch if it meant that much to them. She didn't care anymore. She was glad that Grant had not tracked her down but she had known he wouldn't. He didn't know a thing about Brody or his past. Grant would have no way of knowing that Brody had family in Virginia or that she would go to them.  

Suddenly the door to the cabin opened and cold, frosty air blew in, causing goose bumps to form on her arms. Thomas and Jacob walked in and slammed the door quickly.  

"Damn, it's cold!" Thomas exclaimed.  

"Language," Jacob scolded.  

"I'm a grown man," Thomas reminded him.  

Jacob grumbled something that Elizabeth couldn't make out, reminding her of how Brody had always grumbled when she had made him mad. A sharp pain struck her deep in her chest, nearly making her cry out from its blow. Nearly six months and still the pain had not lessened. She no longer felt it constantly but, when it did strike, it was just as sharp and heart wrenching as it had been when she'd watched her Brody bleeding to death on the road.  

After supper was eaten and the kitchen was clean Jacob cleared his throat and rose from the table "Susie, Sally, Thomas, I want to speak with Liz alone."  

Elizabeth looked up at him with surprise. She and Jacob had become friends over the last few months. He had a lot of bitterness and anger toward his brother but he had been careful not to speak ill of him anymore in front of her. Jacob had the appearance of a man who used to laugh a lot but had been hardened slightly by the hardships of life. In that way he reminded her a lot of Brody. The brothers may not have wanted to admit it but they were very much alike. 	

Their only difference was that when tragedy had struck their family, Jacob had chosen to turn the other cheek and carry on with his life, whereas Brody had been hell bent for vengeance. That simple act had been more then either could forgive the other for.  

Sally and Susie quickly left the main room and went to their shared bedroom, closing the door behind them.  

"I'll go get some more wood from the shed. It's going to be a cold one tonight," Thomas said and he walked out the door, leaving Jacob and Elizabeth alone in the tiny space.  

"Let's go sit in front of the fire," Jacob urged. He held his hand out to help her from her chair but she refused his offering and pulled herself up. She laid her hand over her large belly and walked to the arm chair in front of the fire. Jacob sat on the couch beside her and clasped his hands together nervously on his lap.  

"I've been thinking a lot lately," he began.  

Elizabeth smiled, "That's a dangerous statement, coming from an Atkinson man," she teased.  

Jacob nodded and ran a hand through his neatly trimmed hair, "I've had an idea rolling around in my mind and I think my brother would have approved...." Elizabeth felt a sudden feeling of dread as his eyes met hers. "Your child is going to need a father and it's well past time that I find a wife..."  

"No," Elizabeth said quickly.  

Jacob's face fell and he looked down at his feet, "Can't you at least think about it for a while?"  

Elizabeth stood up and shook her head, "No. My baby had a father and he or she is going to grow up knowing what an amazingly brave and hardworking man he was. I am not looking for a new husband."  

"I'll be a good man to you, Liz," Jacob assured her as he too stood up, "I'll make sure you have everything you ever need."  

"Thanks for the offer, Jacob, but I'm not interested," she said sadly.  

Hurt shone in his green eyes, "Can I ask why? I thought we'd become close over the last few months."

"I'm sorry if I led you to believe I wanted to move on," Elizabeth whispered. She winced when the baby kicked her hard in the ribs. "I am still very much in love with your brother."  

Jacob nodded and looked defeated as he sat back down, "Will there ever come a time you might be ready?" he asked and she shook her head. "Not with me, huh?" he added.  

Elizabeth offered a sad half smile and laid a comforting hand on his cheek, "It's nothing personal, Jacob." she said. "You're just not Brody. No man is." With that she walked away from him and into her room, closing the door softly behind her.  

Jacob heard her sobbing on the other side of the door and shook his head. "Damn, little brother, it looks like you finally did something right in your life. You got you one hell of a woman and she really did love you."

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

"I still can't believe he asked you to marry him," Thomas said a week later as he cleaned the stalls in the barn and Elizabeth milked the cow. Her belly was making it harder and harder to bend and accomplish even simple tasks like this.  

"He was just being nice," Elizabeth replied, wishing that the cold air would warm up a bit. Her hands were nearly frozen to the cows udders. December was even colder than November had been and Jacob had told her that January would be worse yet.  

"Your husband ain't even been dead a year yet, what made him think you'd be ready to move on?"  

Elizabeth shrugged as the muscles in her arms ached. Pregnancy was making her lazy, "My guess is that he was being a typical man and trying to take care of me."  

"Typical man?" Thomas demanded, leaning on the rake and wiping his brow with his shirt sleeve.  

"Yeah. All men think that us women need you to do everything for us. That's one of the things I loved the most about Brody. He knew I didn't need him to pull out my chair or help lift me onto a horse, or have him make me a bed of grass. He knew I could do it all on my own."  

Thomas shook his head and went back to cleaning the stall, "You really gonna raise that baby on your own without a husband?"  

Elizabeth laid her hand on her stomach and nodded, "Yes. I won't remarry just to give my son or daughter a father. I already talked to Victoria, you know the tailor in town? She said that once the baby is born I can start working for her. I'm hoping to save up enough money to get a place for me and the baby to live on our own."  

"I think even Brody would have put his foot down about you living on your own, Liz." Thomas warned. "He would want somebody to be there to help look after things."  

"Are you asking if you can live with me and the baby?"	

 Thomas blushed red and rubbed the back of his neck, "Well.. Uh.. Just as a friend. I don't see you that way."  

"What way?" Elizabeth asked, enjoying his awkwardness.  

"Well uh.. As a woman.. You know...."  

"Just what every woman wants to hear," Elizabeth muttered dryly. 	Thomas leaned the rake against the wall and threw his hands up, "You know what I mean, dammit!" he exclaimed. "You're like my sister. I just think it would be good for you to have a man around just so other men don't think they can take advantage."  

Elizabeth laughed lightly and nodded, "You're right, it probably would be a good thing." she agreed. The baby kicked hard and she winced and grabbed her side.  

"Are you okay?" Thomas asked, coming to her side in the blink of an eye.  

"Yeah, this baby has mine and Brody's temper combined. That much is clear."  

Thomas let out a low whistle, "Let's hope you're wrong or else we're all in for it."  

---

Grant was still fuming. Months had passed since that stupid whore had run away from him. He only hoped she had gotten lost and died a horribly slow death from starvation. He had been nothing but patient with her and had she appreciated it? No, she had not. She had taken off into the night and left him with an itch he'd never get to scratch.  

He had wanted to know what it would feel like to have her long, slender body writhing and moving beneath his own and now he never would. He had heard from his friend with the railroad that soon they'd be coming for the land at the ranch. Braxton had yet to send him the papers and Grant knew that another trip to Texas would soon be in order.  

Apparently Braxton had thought he could do whatever he wanted and not keep his word. Grant would teach him what happens when a man backed out on a promise to Grant Foster.  

He took a long drink of his scotch and went back to looking through the railroad papers on his desk.  

---

Brody could see his breath and hear his heartbeat as he stood outside Grant's fancy home. Grant had no neighbors. No one to hear screams or the sound of gunshots. Brody knew Grant was home. He could see a light burning in an upstairs window.  

He was finally here. His wife had been gone for six months. Six long months since she had breathed her last breath and finally the last man responsible was going to pay. Brody walked silently up the cobblestone path and paused outside the green front door. He closed his eyes and saw Elizabeth's face.  

She was wearing that blue dress and her face was pale and scared and tear stained. Brody felt the pain in his body from the bullets that had ripped through him. He kept screaming at her to run but still she tried to stay and save him. 


"I love you too much to leave you!" she cried out. 


Brody shook his head to clear the vision from his mind. It seemed that every time he closed his eyes anymore he saw her. Sometimes she was angry at the man he had become. Sometimes she just loved him with both her body and her words... And then sometimes it was memories of their last seconds together.  

The visions were always different but they always had the same effect on his broken soul. He punched the stone pillar of the porch, enjoying the pain that he felt since it took his mind off the pain inside.  

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He heard quick footsteps approaching. Female footsteps, he realized. Probably a maid. The door opened and a short, older lady with thin gray hair, pulled back into a tight bun shook her head.  

"It's too late for visitors," she scolded harshly.  

Brody nodded and removed his hat, before running his hands through his long, tangled hair, "I'm sorry, ma'am. I need to speak with Mr. Foster."  

"Mr. Foster has retired to his office," she replied as she tried to shut the door.  

Brody knew he probably looked scary with his wild hair, his unshaven face and his trail worn clothes but he wasn't about to let this woman turn him away.  

He put his hand on the door and held it open as he smiled. He didn't realize or care that the smile looked crazed and maniacal, "I suggest, ma'am, that you get somewhere safe. Your boss is about to die."  

Brody didn't give her a chance to reply. Instead he pushed her out of the way and strode toward the stairs. He took them three at a time. He had decided not to give Grant a chance to speak. Just the thought of hearing his smooth voice, that had worked so hard to fool Elizabeth, made his blood run cold.

He walked to the office door. He could see the candlelight flickering under the door and he could hear papers shuffling. Brody clenched his fists and then pulled his revolver. He took a deep breath and kicked the door with all his might, sending it flying off its hinges.  

"What?.... Brody?!"  Grant jumped to his feet.  

"This is for my wife," Brody aimed the revolver, firing a single shot through Grant's forehead before the man could say another word. Grant fell back in his chair and slumped down, as blood ran down his lifeless face. 	

Brody turned and walked back down the stairs, through the entry room and past the maid who was standing there in shock. He was in a daze as he walked to where he'd left his horse at the tree line. He jumped in the saddle and rode hard for hours with no particular destination in mind.  

Dawns light had him pulling up on the reigns and sliding from the horse. He collapsed to his knees on the ground and sobbed into his hands as a deep emptiness settled deep into his soul.  

Vengeance was done. He'd been left with a hole and nothing to fill it. The thing he'd been living for the last six months was now complete. There was no one left to kill. What was there to live for now? He pulled the marriage paper from his pocket and opened it carefully, laying it on the ground in front of him and running his hand over Elizabeth's delicate signature.  

He closed his hand around her cross on his neck as his tears fell on the piece of paper, "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I know you didn't want me to become this kind of man but what choice did I have? They had to pay for what they did to you... For what they took from me."  

Brody pulled his revolver from its holster and stared down at the cold piece of metal and wood. So much for strong. He was weak and all he wanted was to die. He had lost his wife and then he had sacrificed his soul for the sake of vengeance.  

Brody raised the gun to his temple as he gripped the cross in his other hand. He closed his eyes, took a deep final breath and just before he pulled the hammer back his horse let out a loud breath and nudged him in the arm. Brody fell sideways and threw out his arms to catch himself and keep from falling face first onto the frozen ground.  

Pain shot through his shoulder and he let out a yell and threw his gun several feet away. "No, I'm alive..." Brody wasn't dead and he knew deep in his heart that Elizabeth wouldn't want him to be.  

The horse nudged him again and he rose to his feet and reached into the saddlebag for a handful of oats and as the horse munched them from his hand Brody wondered where he was going to go from here.  

He had the ranch now and a lot of money in the bank in Bakerstown. An image of Jacob and his sisters flashed through his mind. He hadn't seen any of them in close to ten long years. His little sisters would be nearly thirteen now and not so little anymore. Would Jacob allow him to come back? Would Jacob be interested in leaving Virginia and coming to Texas to help him run the ranch?

He'd never know unless he went home and asked. All he knew was that he needed his family right now. Brody picked up the marriage paper and folded it gently before putting it back in his vest pocket. He grabbed his gun off the forest floor and holstered it and then he swung himself up into the saddle and started west. If he rode hard he could make it in two days at the most.

Chapter twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Brody stopped in Harmony before heading to the farm. He needed a change of clothes, a shave and a trim before he visited his family. If they saw him looking like he did right now they'd be scared to death of him.

He was nervous as hell about going home after being gone for so long but he had no where else to go. He couldn't go back to that ranch alone and live there. If Jacob and his sisters wouldn't come then he would transfer the ranch into LeRoy's name and let that pain in the ass take it over.  

Brody went to the tailors shop first. It was still being run by that old grouchy woman, Victoria. As Brody picked out a new pair of pants and a shirt, he was thankful that she didn't seem to recognize him. She let him use the backroom to get dressed and he walked out of the place feeling much cleaner. Not better, no, he'd never feel better again, but at least his clothes weren't stiff and crusty now.  

He went down to a building boasting of hot baths, haircuts and shaves and he paid for all of them. The hot water felt good to his aching leg and shoulder. He pulled his clean clothes back on and then walked into the main part of the building, made to resemble a fancy man's sitting room.  

"Haircut and shave," he said as he sat down in a chair and a red headed woman, with big hips and dark freckles walked toward him.  

"Yes sir," she replied with a grin. "How short am I cutting ya?"  

"Just about an inch."  

"You sure?  This hair will still hang nearly to your shoulders."  

"I'm sure," he grunted.  

 She shrugged and went about cutting his hair and then shave his face. He was standing up and preparing to leave when she gasped and covered her mouth, "Brody Atkinson?" she demanded.

 Brody raised his brow and looked down at her, "Do I know you?" 	She put her hands on her large hips and huffed out a breath, "How little a man's first kiss means to him."  

Brody suddenly recognized her and he nodded, "Peggy," he said simply.  

"You could at least smile and look happy to see me," she scolded.  

"I don't smile much anymore, ma'am." he apologized as he put his hat on. "If you'll excuse...."  

"Brody, everybody thinks your dead. That woman that's living with Jacob told us that you were dead."  

Brody froze, "What woman?"  

Peggy tapped her dimpled chin with her finger and sighed, "I can't remember her name. Sad woman. She doesn't smile much either come to think of it. She says she's your wife. She drives Victoria crazy because she insists on wearing pants and men's shirts...." Peggy stopped talking as Brody ran from the building. She stared at his broad back and wondered what had gotten into him.  

Brody ran faster then he'd ever run in his life, ignoring the pain in his leg and the way the cold air made his lungs burn. He jumped on his horse and urged the beast into his fastest gallop, not caring if he winded him.  

Could Elizabeth be alive? Had she somehow made it to Virginia and to his family? He was afraid to hope... Afraid to believe.. Was it possible that God had not forsaken Brody, despite all the wrong he'd done the past six months?  

He grew impatient as he urged the horse faster. He didn't remember the ride from town to the house being this long. He saw chimney smoke in the distance and urged the horse faster still. The horse was panting and foamy froth covered his withers when Brody finally pulled up sharply on the reigns and stopped in front of the house.  

"Jacob!" A young girl screamed with fear as she dropped her sewing and ran into the house. Brody knew she was either Sally or Susie but he had no way of knowing which, and, quite frankly, right now he didn't care. His eyes were only looking for one woman.  

He jumped from the saddle, landing firmly on the ground and causing pain to shoot through his leg. He was about to storm up the porch steps and search the house when Jacob came bursting out the door with a hunting rifle pointed at his chest. 	

Over nine long years it had been but each brother instantly recognized the other. Jacob's jaw dropped and the rifle nearly clattered to the rough floorboards as he grabbed the banister.  

"Brody...?"  

"Is there a woman here?" Brody demanded. His anticipation causing his voice to sound gruff and angry. He was afraid to say her name out loud. Afraid to truly believe...

"You're supposed to be dead," Jacob accused as he settled the rifle in the crook of his arm.  

"Dammit, quit worrying about me! Is there a woman here!" Brody yelled.  

He could see Susie and Sally cowering behind Jacob in the cabin, but no on else. He felt eyes on his back and he whirled around to see Thomas standing about twenty feet behind him, "Thomas, is she here?"  

"You're supposed to be dead, Brody." Thomas gasped.

 Brody had had enough. Why wouldn't anyone answer him?! He stormed across the yard and grabbed a stuttering, wide eyed Thomas by the collar of his thick wool coat.  

"Where is my wife?!" he hissed, through clenched teeth.

 Thomas pointed down a trail to their right, "The pond," he whimpered fearfully. Brody was a scary man, and he made Thomas's legs want to turn tail and run. Brody released him and stumbled back several steps. Thomas saw a storm of emotions on Brody's face.  

"She's alive?" he whispered.  

"Yeah, she's fine," Thomas replied and then his eyes widened. "Jesus, Brody, did you think she was dead all this time?"  

Brody didn't bother taking the time to reply. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him down the path to the pond, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw her.  

She was standing out on the frozen pond as the wind whipped her long wool coat around her legs. She had her back to him, her long blond hair was loose and blowing in the air. He couldn't seem to speak or move. She was alive... All of this time, all of the pain, all of the vengeance and his Elizabeth was alive.  

"I miss you so much..." her soft voice carried on the breeze to his ears and he was held captive as it washed over him and warmed him from his head to his toes. "I just want to feel you touch me again. I want to taste your kiss. I want to feel your strong arms. I can't even remember what your fingertips felt like on my face anymore...." She let out a sob and it tore at Brody's heart. Was she talking to his ghost?  

"Brody, I love you. I wear this fake smile. I laugh when it's expected of me and I'm forcing myself  to carry on but it's not the same. Nothing will ever be the same again. I lost everything. I lost my father, my family, my home and I lost you...."  

"Elizabeth," Brody managed to call out around the lump of emotion in his throat.  

Elizabeth turned quickly and her green eyes widened as her legs wobbled beneath her, "Brody?" she gasped.  

She was dreaming, that was it. She was dreaming that Brody was here with her. The '

dream-Brody’ didn’t say a word. He started across the ice toward her and when she saw the way he was limping, a flash of the bullet ripping through his leg flashed through her mind and she let out a animalistic sound that was a mixture of a scream, a laugh and a sob. This wasn’t a dream Brody. This was her Brody.

She ran across the slippery ice, the best she could and then each of them stopped, leaving the tiniest bit of space between their bodies as they stared into each others faces.  

Their white breath mingled and blew away on the breeze. Brody raised a shaking hand. He pressed his fingertips against her cold reddened, tear stained cheek and gently brushed her tears away, "This is what my fingers feel like on your face," he whispered gently, not bothering to fight the tears that were forming in his own eyes from rolling down his face.  

"How.... How are you alive?" Elizabeth gasped with disbelief as she leaned into his hand and closed her eyes.  

"Keep those eyes open, woman. It's been too long since I've seen them." Elizabeth smiled at his scolding. She had wanted to hear that for so long. "I'm alive because someone found me out on the road.  How are you alive?"  

Elizabeth's eyes widened at the pain on his face. She raised her hand to his cheek and traced the scar there. Brody let out a groan and leaned his face against her fingertips.

 "LeRoy told me there was blood and your necklace...." he whispered.

 Elizabeth looked at the cross hanging from his neck, "You thought I was dead?"  

Brody nodded, "I killed them." he said, deciding that she needed to know the kind of man he'd been.  

"Who?" Elizabeth asked, her mind racing. This seemed surreal. She wished he would just wrap his arms around her and kiss her.  

"All of them. Braxton, Rene, Vincent and Grant. I would have killed the rest but they were already dead."  

Elizabeth's eyes widened as she stared up at him. He wished he could read her mind to know what she was thinking. Was she thinking about what a monster she was married to? Was she regretting the fact that he was alive and not dead now that she knew.  

"Oh Brody, I'm so sorry you went through that!" she gasped and then she rose on her toes and pressed her lips to his.  

Brody growled against her mouth as he crushed his lips to hers hungrily. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into him, and then he let go of her and jumped away as if he'd been burned.  

He stared at her with shock, this time his eyes went below her face to the heavy wool coat she was wearing and the large belly pressing up against it.  

Elizabeth caught the breath, that his kiss had temporarily stolen and laid her hand over her belly, "Are you okay?"  

"A baby.... My baby?" He regretted asking that instantly when he saw the anger flash in her eyes, her chin jut out stubbornly and her shoulders square.  

"Brody Atkinson, how dare you ask me that. Of course it's your baby!"  

Brody shook his head and grabbed her arm, pulling her back up against him, "Damn you, woman, I didn't mean it like that. I thought that maybe... That somebody might have....."  

Elizabeth's gaze softened as she realized he had thought she'd been raped. She grabbed his hand and laid it over her stomach, "It's yours, Brody."

 A smile, bigger than any she'd ever seen him get before, appeared on his face and he crushed his lips back to hers. The kiss was hungry, it was desperate and it was full of a passion that neither had ever thought they'd feel again.  

Elizabeth's arms circled his neck and she clung to him as he gripped her waist and pulled her as close as her belly would allow, "I have to have you now, cowgirl," Brody growled as he pulled away.  

He grabbed her hand and pulled her back up the path toward the cabin. He had wanted to jump back on his horse and take her to the hotel in town but the horse was no longer standing where he'd left it.  

"Where the hell is my horse?" he demanded of his brother.  

"Resting. You damn near killed the beast. What were you thinking?" Jacob demanded.  

"I was thinking that after six months of thinking my wife was dead, there was suddenly a reason to believe that she was alive and I sure as hell wasn't going to take my time to get here."  

Jacob shook his head, "Same impulsive, arrogant, selfish, self-absorbed...."  

Elizabeth came around Brody and strode toward Jacob, sticking her finger in his chest to emphasize her words, "Say one more bad word about him and I swear I will break your jaw, Jacob Atkinson!" she exclaimed.  	Jacob grabbed her arm. His only intention had been to move her out of his way so he could talk to his brother but he quickly realized he should not have touched her when Brody stepped forward.  

"Take your hands off my wife," Brody ordered in an icy cold voice that made him shiver.  

"I wouldn't hurt her, Brody.." Jacob promised.  

Elizabeth looked at Brody and saw how angry he was and she threw her hands in the air, "This should be a happy moment!" she exclaimed. "Everyone is alive! Everyone is fine! Everyone is back together! Would it be too much to ask both of you to pull your heads out of your asses long enough to realize what's been given back to you!"  

Her bossy, arrogant tone was more than Brody could stand. He grabbed her arm, pulled her too him and kissed her soundly as he buried his hands in her hair, "God, I missed your temper."   

Thomas came out of the barn with a newly saddled horse, "Here. I figured you all would like some time alone," he said. handing the reigns to Brody.  

Brody nodded in thanks and then swung himself into the saddle, "You coming, cowgirl?" he asked.  

"She might need help," Jacob said, stepping forward to help her onto the horse but stopping in his tracks at the angry look she threw him.  

"She was raised on horseback. She'll be fine." Brody promised and just to prove that he was right, Elizabeth lifted her heavy frame into the saddle behind him.  

"We'll be back. I have a lot I want to talk to everyone about," Brody assured them. Elizabeth wrapped her arms tight around his waist and he turned the horse around and headed back to town.  

"That's Brody?" Sally asked after they had ridden away.  

Jacob nodded, "Yeah."  

"I didn't remember him." Susie admitted.  

"You haven't seen him since you were three. But you can thank Brody that you're alive today. He's the one that kept you both from crying out and he's the one that hid your eyes so you never saw what the soldiers did to your family."

 The girls nodded and watched their brother ride away.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Brody jumped off the horse and hitched it at the hotel before turning back to Elizabeth and reaching up for her. She didn't fight or try to be independent and claim she could get herself off the horse. She wanted to feel Brody's hands on her.  

She put her hands on his shoulders and he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down, sliding her body along his own. Once she was on the ground, he tilted her chin up and kissed her softly before turning and walking into the hotel with her following behind him.  

He paid for a room and then to her surprise he picked her up. He cradled her in his arms and began to carry her up the stairs, "What are you doing?" she demanded. "You'll break your back for sure!"  

Brody looked down at her and raised his brow and she nearly burst out laughing because she had missed that simple action so much, "The day I can't carry my damn wife up the stairs and lay her down in bed, is the day that it's time to just send me out to pasture."  

"I love you, Brody,"  

Brody smiled as he opened the door to their room and then used his heel to close it behind them, "I love you too, Elizabeth. More than you will ever know."  

He stood her on her feet and slipped off her heavy wool coat. There was a bit of a chill in the air, despite the fire in the fireplace but neither was too concerned about it. They knew they'd heat the room up soon enough.  

He pressed his lips to hers and then moved them along her jaw and down the hollow of her throat, causing a raging fire to grow deep inside of her and she felt her knees grow weak. His lips moved to her ear and his warm breath washed over her skin.  

"We should talk..." he said as her hands quickly shoved the duster coat from his shoulders and began to undo the buttons of his shirt.  

"Later," she replied and he moaned her name as her fingertips danced across his chest and left fiery paths in their wake, just the way he'd been dreaming of them doing for months. He undid her shirt and pushed it to the floor as he kissed her hungrily and he felt her stiffen.  

"What?" he asked, as he took a ragged breath and pulled away just enough to look into her eyes.

 Elizabeth blushed and tried to hide her swollen belly with her arms, "I don't look the same." She was so afraid that he would be disgusted by how large her belly had become.  

His lips formed a firm hard line and his eyes flashed with anger, "Perfect." he growled. "You are perfect."  

He pressed his lips to her neck and she forgot all about being shy as he moved his lips to her breasts and sucked each nipple in turn until they were hard peaks, beneath his hungry mouth.  

Brody dropped to his knees and kissed her belly as he lifted her feet one at a time and removed her boots. He undid her pants and slid them down her long, lean legs, taking the time to let his fingertips run across her pale, creamy skin before standing back up and crushing her lips with his own.  

Elizabeth felt as if she was in a dream as his lips devoured her own. Her body was burning hotter than the logs in the fire. Only Brody could do this. Only Brody could give her this heat and bring out this desire and passion. She buried her hands in his hair and pressed her mouth against his trembling throat, teasing his soap scented skin with her tongue and lips.  

"I've missed you so much," she breathed into his ear.  

"Not as much as I've missed you," he moaned as his hands gripped her backside and pulled her close.  

She could feel his bulging desire for her pressing against her belly, "Make love to me Brody."  

"Is that an order, boss?" he asked as he nipped at her neck and felt her tremble.  

"Yes," she whispered breathlessly.  

Brody smiled against her skin, "Well then, yes ma'am."

 He laid her gently on the bed. The room itself could have caught fire and burned to the ground and neither of them would have noticed as they made love long and slow. Both of them healing and feeling restored as their bodies came together as one.  

When Elizabeth cried out from the force of her release, Brody closed his mouth over hers to catch the sound and taste the sweetness of her tongue as his own release took him over.  

He collapsed on the mattress beside her and she curled up on her side against him, laying her head on his chest and listening to the thundering of his heart beat beneath her ear. He grabbed the blanket and pulled it over them before kissing her tangled hair.  

He felt her running her fingers over his chest and then he felt them touch the raised circle of scarred tissue on his ribs. Her fingers moved from there and brushed over the matching scar on his shoulder and then moved down to his thigh and the scar that marred his muscular leg.  

Brody wondered what was going through her mind and then he heard her sniff and he realized she was crying as her hot tears struck his skin and seemed to burn him like liquid fire.  

"Please, don't cry," he begged as he grabbed her chin and brought her face up to his so he could kiss her softly, "I'm here. I'm alive. No amount of bullets could ever take me away from you."   

Elizabeth bit her lip and fought back the tears, ashamed that she was so weak, but unable to do anything about it, "When I saw those bullets tear through you, I felt so scared and helpless.... I know you wanted me to run, Brody, but I couldn't... I couldn't just leave you."

 Brody smiled against her lips as he kissed her again and he cleared away her tears with his thumbs, "I should have known better than to tell a stubborn woman like you to run. Maybe I should have told you to stay and then you'd have took off just to prove you didn't have to do what I said."  	She smiled and laughed lightly even as she slapped his stomach gently, "You're not funny."  

"No, but you're laughing so you must be easily amused."  

"Only when I'm with you, Brody. The last few months have been the hardest I've ever lived through. I wasn't sure how to carry on with my life but I knew I had to for our baby."

 Brody's eyes went to her stomach as he lowered his hand beneath the blanket and laid it over the stretched skin, "Our baby. I hope I'm cut out for this father stuff," he said with just a hint of nervousness in his voice. The nervousness surprised her because she'd never heard him sound nervous before.  

"Susie and Sally seem to think it's twins."  

Brody's eyes widened, "Shit."  

"Good shit or bad shit?" she asked with a smile.

"I'm in trouble shit," Brody replied. "Two little girls with your stubborn chin and fiery temper.... I'll never last."  Brody let out a gasp and jerked his hand away when he felt a hard jab hit his palm.  

Elizabeth laughed, "I think you made her mad."  

 Brody sat there in amazement. He'd never in his life felt anything quite as amazing a child moving inside a woman's body. The fact that it was his wife's body and his child simply made it that much more memorable.

"Who found you, Brody?" Elizabeth asked suddenly as she traced patterns in the brown hair on his chest. Brody knew they'd have to talk about all of this eventually and he wanted to know how she had gotten away from Rene and Petey and ended up here in Virginia so he sighed and laid his head against the pillow.  

"An old friend from the war named LeRoy. He's the one that gave me your necklace and told me he found it in a puddle of blood. The kind of puddle a dead person leaves behind."  

"And so that's why you thought I was dead?" she asked as she snuggled as close to him as her large belly would allow. She couldn't seem to get close enough. She wanted to feel his body against her own forever. he never wanted to be away from him again.  

"How did you get away?" Brody asked as he wrapped her hair around his fingers.  

"I didn't. The blood was Petey's. I killed him," Elizabeth shivered as she remembered the way his blood had poured from his throat and the desperation in his eyes as he had grabbed the necklace and ripped it from her.  

"You did?" Brody asked with surprise.  

"Yes. Rene knocked me out after that. He kept me tied up, took me to town and used me to blackmail Braxton. Then he brought Grant back and Grant bought me from him. Grant said he was doing me a favor because Braxton had ordered Rene to kill me. Grant took me on the train to Virginia..."  

"How? Did you keep you tied up the whole time?"  

Elizabeth shook her head and felt shame from her head to her toes, "No. I never tried to escape. I could have at any time. He's not nearly as smart as he thinks he is..."  

"As he thought he was, you mean," Brody amended and Elizabeth nodded.  

"You really killed all of them?"

"Right now we're talking about you..." Brody grumbled. "Why didn't you get away from him sooner?"  

Elizabeth bit her lip and kept her eyes on the tight, defined muscles of his stomach, "I had no reason to. My pa was gone. The ranch was gone. You were gone...." her voice broke but he heard her take a deep breath and knew that she had fought back the rise of emotions. "It wasn't until I realized I was pregnant with your child that I found the strength to get away and Thomas was waiting for me. He helped me get here and Jacob took us in."  

"Did Grant hurt you?" Brody asked, as he made a mental note to thank his brother and wondered if the single shot to Grant's head had been a good enough punishment. 	

"He slapped me some and made fun of me but that's as far as it went. He kept me locked in a room for a month before I escaped."  

Brody sighed and knew it was his turn, "It took two months for my injuries to heal. You don't want to know the detail of what I did after that. My soul was dead, it died with you, and all I wanted was vengeance. I wanted to kill every single one of them."  

"You said something about Vincent... who was that?"  

"The fourth man that helped abduct us from the ranch." Brody replied.  

"You're right, I don't want details about what you did to them," Elizabeth said as the ice in his voice washed over her and caused goose bumps to form on her bare skin. "I'm not happy about what you did, Brody, but I understand why you did it."  

"You do?" Brody asked with surprise. He had been so afraid for Elizabeth to know the man he had turned into after she had 

‘died’ . He’d been afraid she wouldn’t want to be with him anymore if she knew. Her acceptance was more than he could have ever hoped for.

"Yes. Why do you think I killed Petey? I would have killed Rene too if he hadn't overpowered me. I didn't kill him trying to save myself. I killed him to avenge you because I thought he'd killed you."  

"Thank God we were both wrong and neither of us really died that day," Brody said as he gave her a squeeze and then he made a mental note to have a long hard talk with God later and pray to the big guy for forgiveness for telling him that he could rot in hell.  

He heard Elizabeth yawn and he smiled, "Are you tired?"  

"It's a nasty side effect of being as big as a house with a baby inside of you."  

"You're not as big as a house," Brody shrugged. " A wood shed maybe," he added with a grin.  

"Just as charming as always," she mumbled dryly.  

He kissed her tangled hair, "Sleep."  

"No... I don't want to miss a single second of you."  

"I'll be right here Elizabeth. I ain't never letting you out of my sight again," he assured her.  

She wanted to argue that she didn't need to sleep. That she wanted to stay awake and talk, but her heavy eyelids simply wouldn't be denied and she drifted off to sleep, listening to his heart beating beneath her.... She took comfort in knowing that this time when she woke up it wouldn't simply be a cold pillow she was laying against.. It would be her husband.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"I don't want that gun in my home. Leave it on the porch," Jacob ordered as he rose from the table when Brody and Elizabeth walked in. 	Brody looked down at the revolver on his hip and shook his head, "I only take my gun off for one thing and it sure ain't sitting here talking to you."  

Jacob crossed his arms over his chest, "That's the rules here. No revolvers in the house," he repeated in a no nonsense tone of voice.

 Brody stuck his thumbs through his belt loops and leaned his weight on his good leg, "I ain't leaving the gun on the porch and I sure as hell ain't standing out in the cold."

"Brody..." Jacob warned but Brody cut him off.  

"What damn good is this gun gonna do me if I leave it on the porch? If there's one thing the life I've led has taught me, it's to keep my gun with me all the time."  

Thomas stepped into the house and Brody looked at him to see that he had indeed removed his gun from his holster, "Where the hell is your gun, Thomas?! Don't tell me you let him talk you into not wearing it in here! You've been supposed to be looking out for my wife all these months! What the hell were you gonna do if something bad happened? Ask the thieves, attackers or murderers to wait just a minute while you go and get it?!" 	Thomas looked from Jacob to Brody and wondered which man he should listen to... He quickly determined that Brody was scarier and he stepped back out long enough to grab his gun.  

"I give up, Brody," Jacob said as he flopped himself back down in the kitchen chair. "Come on in and sit down so we can talk."  

---

"So how is that you are alive when your wife thought you were dead?" Jacob asked once everyone was eating supper.  

"A man found me and patched me up," Brody replied simply.  

"And what took you so long to come look for your wife?" Jacob asked with annoyance. Knowing Brody he'd been too busy doing his own thing to give any thought to his wife.  

"I thought Elizabeth was dead. The men that shot me had a gun to her head and just before I lost consciousness, I heard a gunshot. I had given her mama's necklace and the man that found me also found that necklace in a pool of blood."   

Jacob looked at Elizabeth and saw that she was indeed wearing his mama's old necklace, "That still doesn't explain what you've been doing for six months or what you came back here for," he said looking back at his brother.  

Brody shoved a big bite of fried potatoes into his mouth, "I thought my wife had been murdered by a bunch of bastards in a plot to steal her ranch... I think what I was doing for those six months should be pretty self explanatory." he growled with an indifferent shrug, "As far as coming back here, I guess I thought coming home might help me deal with losing her."  

Brody felt Elizabeth's hand squeeze his thigh in comfort and he lowered his hand beneath the table and took her hand in his. Silence fell over the table as only the sound of silverware scraping against plates and people chewing filled the air.  

Finally Susie spoke up, "Where did you get that scar?" she asked quietly, pointing at Brody's cheek.  

"The war," Brody replied simply. He wished he could tell the girls apart but it had been too long since he'd seen them.  

"We know that!" Sally exclaimed. "But how?!"  

"Don't worry about it," Jacob scolded. "He obviously doesn't want to talk about it." Susie lowered her eyes back down to her plate looking ashamed as Sally glared at her oldest brother and an angry blush covered her cheeks.  

"So what are you going to do from here?" Jacob asked his brother. 	Brody looked at Elizabeth and she nodded. They had talked after their nap at the hotel and he had told her about Anita's death and about the ranch now belonging to him. He had told her about the money her father had also left to her and they had come up with a plan that would give everyone an easier life.... If Jacob could be talked into going along with it.  

"How attached are you to this place?" Brody asked as he looked around the kitchen. This cabin was no longer home. As a matter of fact he hated being in here because it made him remember what had happened all those years ago.  

Jacob saw the haunted look in Brody's eyes and couldn't help but feel sorry for his younger brother, "I'm not so much attached as I am stuck, Brody. I got two girls to raise and no other way to make money other than to try to raise some cows and pigs and sell them every now and then."  

"So it's been hard?" Brody asked.  

 Jacob nodded, "A heck of a lot harder than it was back when it was three of us men running the farm and mama, Christine and Catherine doing the rest of the stuff 'round here."  

"What would you say to leaving here?" Brody asked and Susie and Sally's heads snapped up.  

"And going where?" Jacob demanded.  

"Texas," Brody replied.  

"What's in Texas?" Jacob asked.  

"My ranch," Brody replied. "Our ranch," he amended, looking over at his wife.  

"Ranch?" Thomas asked as he took a big drink of water. "What ranch?"  

"McCready ranch. Of course I'm thinking 'bout changing the name to Atkinson."  

"I thought Braxton had the ranch?" Thomas spoke up.

 Brody shook his head, "He decided to give it to me."  

Jacob snorted, "Decided at gun point you mean."  

"No," Brody shook his head and remembered the branding iron he'd used on Braxton's head. "No, it wasn't at gun point."

 Elizabeth realized that at the rate the men were going, it was going to take all night to finish the conversation so she stepped in, "Bottom line is this." she said in her most no nonsense, ranch boss tone of voice. "The ranch is wealthy. It's prosperous. The girls would have everything they could possibly need. I don't want to live in the ranch house because there are too many bad memories there for me now but I see no reason why you and the girls shouldn't live there. Brody and I can build our home somewhere else on the property."  

"But.." Jacob started.

"Now before you say you don't know anything about ranching or you don't feel right moving in out there let me tell you that between me, Brody and Thomas we can teach you everything you need to know and we're changing the ranch's name to Atkinson Spread just as soon as we back. Since you're an Atkinson that means it's yours too." Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her belly, as if daring him to argue with her pure and simple logic.  

"I don't..." Jacob started but was cut off again by Susie and Sally.  

"It sounds like fun!" Sally exclaimed.  

Please Jacob! I don't want Liz to leave without us and I want to get to know Brody!" Susie added.  

Jacob sighed and stood from the table, "I'll think about it." He walked back to his room, closing the door behind him.  

"He's not mad," Susie said quickly as Brody grumbled under his breath. "He's just confused about what to do.'  

"If he'd use the half of his brain that has common sense he'd see that this farm is a lost cause and he'd come back to Texas with us," Brody grumbled.  

"Whether he decides to come or not, I'm coming." Sally assured her brother.  

"You'd leave Jacob and I?!" Susie exclaimed.  

Sally nodded, "I think Brody knows more about life than Jacob and I'd like to learn what goes on around a real live ranch."  

"Sally, Jacob might hear you. How do you think that would make him feel?" Elizabeth scolded.  

 Sally blushed, "Might make him see some sense," she muttered and Brody laughed out loud. Everyone looked at him with confusion.  

"I'll be damned if you aren't just like me, Sally." he said in response to their looks. "We get that from mama... Hot headed, proud, stubborn and driven for excitement and adventure. Nobody tells us what to do and we always know best."  

Sally smiled proudly, "Good for us." she said sitting up a little straighter.  

"Of course..." Brody added, looking over at Susie who was sitting there looking a little hurt. "Jacob and Susie are more like pa was. Peaceful, calm, hardworking folks who just want to be left alone to live their lives without too much excitement and bothers. Which is a good thing, I think. The world needs both types of people to keep itself balanced."  

"What kind of person am I?" Thomas asked with a grin.  

Brody raised a brow as he glanced at the boy, "The kind that needs to get his ass back to Texas, round up some men and get busy building Elizabeth and I a house." 	

"Brody!" Elizabeth exclaimed at his rudeness.   

"That's alright, Liz. I'll head back in the morning. It'll feel good to go back to Texas.. Texas is home." Thomas said with a grin.  

"What about us? When are we going back?" Elizabeth asked Brody.  

"Just as soon as you have that baby," he replied looking down at her belly.  

"Babies," Sally cut in.  

"Babies," Brody agreed and then he looked at Thomas, "I'll expect our house to be finished."  

"Yes sir." Thomas agreed.  

"How quickly you take over the roll of boss," Elizabeth said with a roll of her eyes.

 Brody wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple, "Get used to it, cowgirl. I am the boss now."  

"In your dreams," she said with a raise of her eyebrow. She moved her hand up his thigh, higher and higher until he jerked and nearly knocked his glass of water off the table.  

Elizabeth smiled and wiggled her eyebrows, though no one else at the table knew what had caused Brody's sudden clumsiness or the grin on his face, "I'm still the boss," she insisted.

Brody nodded, "Yes ma'am."

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

    Waves of pain washed over Elizabeth. She cried out and shook with the intensity, as it felt like her insides were ripping out of her. As the pain subsided slightly she leaned back against Brody’s chest as he sat behind her in the bed and he ran his hands up and down her sweaty arms and kissed her hair. 

    “It’ll be okay, cowgirl.” he whispered. 

    Her jaw tightened as yet another pain began to build in her stomach and back, “That’s easy for you to say! All you have to do is sit and watch!” she exclaimed and Susie shushed her patiently and ran a wet cloth across her forehead to cool her skin. 

    “Trust me, Elizabeth, if I could take the pain away, I would. This is killing me right now,” Brody growled through clenched teeth as he laid his hands on her belly and felt the tightness as his child prepared to come into the world. 

    “I think it’s about time to start pushing, Mrs. Atkinson.” Doc Peterson said as he raised the thin sheet covering her and checked the progress.     Brody fought back the urge to kick the doctor right in the head but kept reminding himself that he was only looking at his wife’s lower regions to help her give birth. 

    “Doc, I think you can call me Elizabeth. You’re seeing more of me then even my husband does…” Elizabeth said as the pain eased again and she fought to catch her breath. 

    Doctor Peterson looked up at her and smiled while Susie blushed dark red and Brody chuckled. Leave it to his Elizabeth to be cracking jokes at a time like this. 

    “When you feel the next pain, Elizabeth, I want you to push.” Elizabeth nodded as the doc pulled off his glasses and rolled up his shirt sleeves. Susie and Sally stood ready and waiting with warm towels. 

    Elizabeth gripped Brody’s legs and bit her tongue to keep from screaming as the pain started again and she lowered her chin to her chest and pushed for all she was worth….

    Several pushes, a few screams, and two very bad bruises on Brody’s thighs later and the sound of a baby crying filled the tiny room. 

    “Congratulations!” Doctor Peterson declared as he handed the baby to Sally and turned a happy gaze to Elizabeth and Brody, “You have a son.”     Brody felt his chest swell with pride but before Sally had the baby cleaned up Elizabeth cried out again, “Doc, I’m not done yet!” she exclaimed and the doctor quickly disappeared back under the sheet. 

    Brody was sure he’d never be able to walk again after the havoc Elizabeth’s hands had wreaked on his legs as the sounds of a second baby crying filled the air. 

    “Congratulations!” Doctor Peterson exclaimed yet again, handing this baby to Susie. “A pretty little girl.” 

    “I told you it was twins!” Sally exclaimed happily. Sally and Susie laid the babies in Elizabeth’s waiting arms and then quickly left the room to give them privacy. 

    “I’ll be back out in the morning to check on everyone,” Doctor Peterson said. “If you have any problems just send someone into town to get me.” 

    “What kinds of problems?” Brody asked with just a touch of panic.     Elizabeth turned her head and kissed his stubble covered cheek, “Thank you, doc.” she said and the doctor smiled and left the room, closing the door behind him. 

    “Look at what we made,” Brody said in awe as he stared down at his dark haired son and daughter both sound asleep in his wife’s arms. 

    “We did good,” Elizabeth agreed sleepily as she leaned against him.     Brody smiled and kissed her hair, before sliding himself out from behind her and helping her get adjusted on the bed with the babies cradled against her. 

    “Get some sleep beautiful,” he urged gently.

    “What are we going to name them?” she asked as she fought to keep her eyelids from closing. 

    “Bryant and Lexi?” he offered. Elizabeth thought for a moment and then smiled as she nodded. 

    “Bryant and Lexi,” she agreed. Brody kissed her head one last time and then walked from the room, shutting the door silently behind him. 

    “How is she?” Jacob asked as Brody walked out on the porch and struck his match across his cheek to light his cigarette. 

    “Sleeping.” Brody replied and Jacob could see the pride in the smile on Brody’s face. 

    “Still lighting your matches the same way, I see,” he stated.

     Brody nodded, “Yep.” 

    “Before they ran to the garden to get busy with their chores, Susie and Sally informed me that I have a new niece and nephew.” 

    “Yep,” Brody’s smile grew, “I did pretty good considering we were only together a few days before I ‘died’ .” 

    Jacob laughed. The two brothers had gotten closer over the last three months. While they still disagreed on the main philosophies of life, they had found that the friendship they’d had as teenagers was slowly coming back to them. 

    “You ready to be a pa?” Jacob asked as he leaned against the porch banister and looked out over the mountains surrounding them. 

    “Kinda late to back out now, ain’t it?” Brody replied as he took a long draw off his cigarette. 

    Jacob nodded, “Yeah, I guess it is.” 

    They stood there in silence for several long moments and then finally Brody put his cigarette out on the sole of his boot and sighed, “So, have you decided what you’re doing?” 

    “About what?” Jacob replied, running his hand through his short brown hair. 

    “Just as soon as the boss is feeling up to it, we’ll be heading back to Texas. Are you coming or not?” 

    Jacob gripped the porch banister and looked deep in thought for a moment and Brody crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot with impatience. He had better things to do then wait on his indecisive brother to make a decision. How long did it take to make a damn decision? The man had had three months! 

    “Brody, we aren’t ever going to see eye to eye on most things. We’ll always fight, butt heads and argue,” Jacob warned. 

    “Yeah, we will,” Brody agreed. 

    “Susie and Sally want to come and I just can’t see any reason to stay here by myself. No matter what we disagree about, we’re brothers and I love you. I love Liz too and those two sleeping babies in there are my niece and nephew. Our family has been separated long enough, so if going to Texas and learning how to work on a ranch is what I have to do to keep up together, then that’s what I’ll do.” 

    Brody nodded, “Glad to hear it,” he said simply and then he walked off the porch, only to turn at the last minute and look back at his brother, “I’m sorry I took off back then, Jacob, and even sorrier that it took me so long to come home. I know my money over the years probably didn’t help much but trust me when I tell you that you wouldn’t have wanted me here. Not with all the hate and rage I had. You’re stronger than me. You’re like pa. It takes a strong man to simply carry on with his life and hold his family together after something like that happens. You did a  damn good job with the girls.” 

    Jacob stood there in shock and before he could say anything in response, Brody turned and walked away toward the barn to get some work done. 

One Month Later

    The stage pulled to a stop in Bakerstown and one by one the family climbed out. Thomas was waiting on the boardwalk for them. 

    “Thomas!” Sallie exclaimed as she handed Bryant back to Elizabeth and ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “I missed you!” 

    “It’s only been four months.” Thomas mumbled as he pried her thin arms from his neck and moved her aside. He turned his attention to Elizabeth and Brody who were each holding a baby, “Well I’ll be damned. It was two of them!” 

    “Yes and they are tired and cranky and ready to be home,” Brody grumbled. 

    “Just like their pa,” Elizabeth added. 

    “Well let’s go then. I’ve got the wagon sitting down there waiting on you and I brought a couple of extra horses for the men, and Elizabeth, to ride.” Susie and Sally climbed into the wagon and held the sleeping infants in their laps. 

    Thomas was about to climb up but Brody grabbed him and pulled him to the side as Elizabeth and Jacob mounted their horses, “What about Sheriff Willie? I didn’t exactly make friends with him before I left town last time.” Brody said, looking around and laying his hand on his gun. He’d be more than happy to kill the man now if he was going to be a threat to his family.    

    “He’s gone. Word about what you did to him got around and he threw down his badge and left. I guess he was too embarrassed to stick around.” Brody nodded and was about to turn back to go get on a horse when Thomas grabbed his arm, “You should know something else,” he said. 

    “What?” 

    “Your reputation got around… Most people actually approve of what you did because they knew what Braxton had done. This town doesn’t have a lawman anymore and most folks have been hoping you’d come back and take over that job.” 

    “You mean I’d be able to shoot people and it would be perfectly legal?” Brody asked with a grin.

     Thomas laughed, “More or less.” 

    Brody let out a long breath and shrugged, “Ya gotta have an election to become Sheriff.”

    “They’d elect you, Brody. They want you.” 

     Brody shook his head and patted Thomas on the back, “I’ll talk to the boss about it.” 

    Thomas nodded and Brody turned and mounted his horse while Thomas climbed up between Susie and Sally on the wagon and took the reigns. 

    “What was that about?” Elizabeth asked her husband. 

    “We’ll talk later,” he promised. 

    The family started out of town and stopped suddenly when a yell rang out behind them, “Brody Atkinson!” Brody turned in the saddle to see Willie standing outside the saloon. The man dirty, unkempt and weaving with drunkenness as he pointed his gun at Brody’s family. 

    Brody glared at Thomas, “I thought he was gone?” 

     Thomas shrugged, “He was.” 

    “Put that gun away, Willie,” Brody warned, turning his horse.

    “You killed my brother! And branded his head before you shot him, you sick bastard!” 

    “Then put the gun down, let my family ride away and then you and I can settle this like men,” Brody said calmly. 

    Jacob was scared as he watched that gun of Willie’s bounce from each member of the family to another, even the babies. He looked at Brody and Elizabeth to see if they were as scared as he was but Elizabeth was watching Brody and Brody was sitting relaxed as could be on his horse. He looked as if he was just having a nice conversation with an old friend about the weather as he kept his arms draped over his legs and the reigns held loosely in his hands.  

    “Go to hell, Brody! You made a fool of me!” Willie pulled the trigger and a hole appeared in the wagon just below Sally’s feet. Thomas fought to keep the horses from bolting as he asked her if she was okay. 

    Brody growled and as Willie squinted and cocked his gun for another shot, Brody pulled his own revolver, quicker than anyone could blink, and placed one quick shot straight through the drunk, ex law man’s heart. 

    “You okay, Sally?” he asked as he holstered his gun. 

    “Yeah,” she said shakily as she tried to comfort the screaming infant in her arms. 

    “Let’s go home,” Brody said and without another word about it, he turned and started back down the road. 

---

    “Thomas outdid himself,” Elizabeth said as she and Brody lay together in bed late that night. “This house is beautiful.” 

    “He actually decorated it pretty nice. Makes me worry a little about the man. No man should know how to match curtains and bedspreads.”     Elizabeth smiled and they lie there listening to the silence as their babies slept soundly in their cradles, “Jacob and the girls seemed to like the ranch house,” Elizabeth said finally. Brody nodded as he ran his fingers up and down her bare arm. “LeRoy seems like a nice man as well,” she added.  

    “He is, I suppose. He kept telling me that killing people was wrong when I was on my trail of vengeance and I just about shot him just cuz I didn’t want to hear it.” 

    “That’s over now, Brody. All the danger is over,” she said with relief in her voice. 

    “I need to talk to you about something.” 

    “What?’ Elizabeth asked warily. She didn’t like the way his voice sounded. 

    “That man in town…” 

    “I know who and what Willie was,” Elizabeth said with disgust. 

    “It made me see that Thomas was right. This town needs a good lawman. Somebody who will keep people like that from hurting innocent folks.” 

    ’What does that have to do with us?“ Elizabeth asked, hoping that he wasn’t about to say what she thought he was about to say. 

    “The town wants me and I’m gonna accept the job as sheriff.” 

    “You’re what?!” Elizabeth demanded and then she remembered that the babies were sleeping, “You’re what?” she repeated more quietly. 

    Brody shifted on the mattress, “I’d make a good one, I think.”  

    “I have no doubts that you would make an excellent sheriff, Brody, but your life would be in danger all the time! I can’t go through that….” 

    “What do you mean, you can’t? The strong, independent, tough as nails, Elizabeth McCready-Atkinson, can do anything that she sets her mind to do.” he boasted as he smoothed her hair. “And my life won’t be in danger all the time. From what I’ve heard trouble almost never happens around here.” 

    “Brody, if you died…” 

    “I’m not gonna die, Elizabeth. Not for a good sixy years or longer.” 

    “But…” 

    “Hush woman,” Brody said sternly and her stubborn chin jutted out. “Until you see me actually placed in a grave and dirt being thrown in my face, I don’t ever want you to believe that I’m gone again. I done told you once that no amount of bullets would take me away from you.” 

    “Same goes for you,” Elizabeth snapped. “Don’t believe I’m gone until you see me..” 

    “Shut-up,” Brody interrupted harshly and then he squeezed her tight and kissed her lips with so much passion and desperation, it stole her breath. He pulled away and shivered, “I don’t even want to picture that.”    

    “Sheriff Brody Atkinson.” Elizabeth mused with a half smile. 

    “You’ll support me?” he asked. 

    She shrugged, “I don’t have a choice.” 

    “Yes you do. I wouldn’t take the job if you really didn’t want me to. You’re the boss, remember?”

     Elizabeth smiled and snuggled closer to him, laying her head against his chest, “As your boss I will support you on one condition.” 

    She heard him smile, “What condition is that?” 

    ’That you keep your word about the sixty plus years we’ve got left together.“ 

    Brody kissed her hair and gripped her tight, “Yes ma’am.”

A/N: the next story in this series is ‘Breaking Jacob’