Their Reckless Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 11) - Page 11

The two words were like a loaded weapon, aimed at me and full of intent. He wanted to know why I’d shot them. I couldn’t tell them the truth, that I was Grace Grove and my family had killed Hank’s father. They’d either toss me in jail for being somehow complicit or kick me off their land. Then I’d be back at the shanty and hopeful I would avoid Barton Finch.

No. I’d stay here for as long as I could. “They were going to shoot you,” I replied simply.

It was true. If I hadn’t tracked them down after escaping from Barton Finch, if I hadn’t found them right then, Hank and Charlie would have been murdered. I’d had my chance; I’d had my hatred, and I’d used them both. I’d saved two good men while seeking justice for two bad ones. While I’d aimed and fired, getting justice for me, I realized there were so many other people affected by them. Like Hank.

I wasn’t sure if Charlie believed me, but he didn’t push for more. I looked to Hank, waiting for him to answer my question. It was one thing for me to be here with them, safe from Barton Finch, but my father killed his father. If he knew…

“They’ll get justice.” He took off his hat, pinned me with a stare. “And I get you.”

5

G RACE

“I ASSUME you wish to have that bath we denied you,” Hank said, taking his hat off.

I stared at the dark locks that had been hidden until now. While his hair had curl and fell almost rakishly over his forehead, it wasn’t wild like mine. It looked silky and I wondered what it would feel like curled around my fingers. I could now see his strong brow. His skin was tan from the sun and little lines were at the corners of his eyes. He seemed so serious for them to be laugh lines, but I didn’t think he was intense all the time. Was he?

I was still caught on what he’d said before. And I get you. What did that mean? He didn’t want me, surely. Finally, I nodded, remembering he was waiting for a response.

I offered him a polite smile. “Yes, thank you.”

“Then we’ll take the horses to the stables to be brushed down and fed while you do that.”

I looked to Smoky, my horse, the only real thing I had of value… and that I cared about. Charlie patted his neck and I was relieved to know he would be well taken care of. Father and Travis wouldn’t hurt one of our horses because they were too lazy to walk. But it didn’t mean they were given the best care either.

I retrieved my saddle bag, tossed it over my shoulder. “Again, thank you.”

Charlie pointed toward the front door. “Everything you might need is inside.”

Lord, they were so nice. They didn’t expect me to cook food for them, didn’t expect me to do anything but take care of myself. They were tackling the chore of brushing down the horses, feeding and watering them.

I watched them lead the animals away, taking my time to study the two men. The broad shoulders, the taut bottoms, the flexing of their sturdy thighs beneath their pants. Even their long-legged gaits. Somehow, I’d caught their attentions. Well, I knew how, but I wasn’t exactly sure why. So I’d shot two men for them. It wasn’t as if it had taken any effort on my part. I’d told them I always hit what I aimed for. I was glad I’d been there when I had. The thought of them being killed by Father and Travis had me swearing under my breath.

My heart ached knowing they’d killed Hank’s father. I could only imagine what kind of man he’d been, law-abiding and justice-seeking, just like his son. I couldn’t blame Hank for taking up where the older man had left off capturing the Grove gang.

I felt guilt for being one of them. I knew Father and Travis. Lived with them. I knew where to find Barton Finch. Knew where to end it all for him. Knew how to let him hand the sheriff job to someone else so he could be a rancher again. And I kept him from all of that. The one he’d brought to his house, the one he let bathe in peace… I didn’t say a word.

If I were a man, they’d have bought me a whiskey at the saloon. But I was a woman and they’d said they’d claimed me. Now, here I was at Bridgewater.

I saw other houses quite a distance away, a barn and a few other buildings. Was all this land theirs? Was this one large ranch? I was alone and answers would have to wait.

I went inside. The rooms were large and bright, the walls painted the same crisp white as the exterior. Gleaming wood floors were beneath my feet. There was a large fireplace, now cold, in one room I meandered through. It was well-furnished, rich velvets that were soft as I slid my fingertips over it. Smooth wood. Everything was well-kept and spotless.

It was obvious Hank and Charlie were well off. This was not a home of a poor family. I knew that well enough. I circled the ground floor and came upon the kitchen. There were no dirty dishes about, no stench of spoiled food. The kitchen table was scrubbed and there were no scraps of food on the floor. I’d tried to keep up with the housework, to not live in filth and squalor, but Father and Travis had made it almost impossible. I hated being their slave, but I did all the housework more for me than for them. I hadn’t wanted to live in a pig sty. I hadn’t wanted to live with pigs.

And now I didn’t.

I felt as if I were in a dream, a storybook that wasn’t real.

But it was.

I looked out the back window over the… was that a pump for water and a sink? I’d heard talk of water being indoors, but had never seen it. I pumped the handle and cool water came out. Leaning down, I took a drink. As I wiped my mouth, I laughed. Inside water.

Through the window over the pump, I saw a creek in the distance. I carried my saddle bag out the back door and made my way to it. The land angled down toward it and a small valley formed and followed the water. When I reached the bank, I stood before a deep pool where large rocks sheltered it from the stronger current. It also had a sandy bottom, and I wondered if this where Hank and Charlie came to bathe. My mind immediately went to them stripping out of their clothing and sitting where I was now. Naked, washing. I took off my hat, wiped my brow. I was still hot and strangely needy.

Charlie had touched me earlier and besides being stunned, I’d liked it and I had to admit to myself I wanted him to do it again. I knew what it led to because I had crude male family members. But I thought it was just fucking, just rutting a cock into a woman. I didn’t know th

ere was other things that went with it. The rutting part didn’t hold any appeal, but whatever Charlie had been doing was fine by me.

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