Their Wayward Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 2)

He stiffened in his saddle. "I'm not marrying her for her mind."

"Don't you worry about daft bairns then?" Ian asked, putting a little extra emphasis on his accent.

"There's more at stake here than that," the man admitted.

"Oh? And what's that?" Robert asked. "When you don't find her at Bridgewater, where are you going to search next? There's plenty of land for her to be."

"Her horse," Turner bit out, "is laying dead on your property."

"Then the girl, could be laying dead anywhere between your ranch and here," Simon added.

The sheriff came out then, Andrew following behind. Ann stood in the doorway.

"She's not in there, Turner. Hell, she's not here. These men would have brought her to town when the weather cleared or at least handed her over when we first arrived." The sheriff sighed. "We aren't going to search every building on the property, are we?"

"Did you search the Carter's house? How about the

Reed's? You passed both their ranches are on the way here," Kane asked.

I could tell by the angry looks on Turner's and Palmer's faces that they hadn't.

"Is there some kind of bias at play here, Sheriff?" I asked.

Sheriff Baker held up his hand. "The animal is on your land," he offered.

"As I said before you came out, she could have fallen off anywhere between Turner's spread and here. The storm was mighty fierce, and for a woman to go out alone? You think she'd make it this far? Alive?"

The sheriff nodded sagely. "Let's go, gentleman. We've wasted enough of their time."

The men didn't look happy. Turner and Palmer didn't have the business deal without Laurel and the two goons didn't have any faces to smash in. Sheriff Baker climbed up onto his horse, tipped his hat. He was the first to turn his animal around and the rest, grudgingly, followed.

It wasn't until they'd gone over the slight rise in the distance, indicating they were on their way back to town, did we go inside. It was time to get the truth, all of it, from Laurel.

CHAPTER EIGHT

LAUREL

When we heard the shots, the ladies froze in place. They'd told me that three shots meant something was terribly wrong and indicated that men were needed to help immediately. Within a few minutes—which felt like forever—Andrew had stormed into the kitchen through the back door and led me to what he called a Priest's Hole. It was a secret space to hide built beneath the stairwell. A secret latch opened the door and I easily fit inside.

Andrew, in no uncertain terms, told me that there were men at Mason and Brody's house and were most likely searching for me. He’d recognized the sheriff, even from a distance, which meant there was no real danger. Only to me. He would have pushed me out of the way to get Ann and the baby in first if there was truly a danger.

Of course it was my father. Mason and Brody assumed they'd come searching for me and I knew it as well. I just didn't want to believe they'd actually come. It only meant I was still of value to them. They didn't care about me, only needed me for their own personal gains, whatever they were. My stomach lurched at the idea of Mr. Palmer or my father finding me and went into the hidden space without complaint. Ann gave me a blanket to sit upon and I was comfortable enough, but time moved so slowly in the dark.

I heard the women's voices, although muted, the baby fuss, then settle. I focused on my breathing and staying as quiet as possible. The sound of men's voices had me listening intently. One voice was Andrew's, the other one I didn't recognize. They spoke of the baby in easy, congenial tones.

"You're welcome to search the house, Sheriff," Andrew said.

"I don't care if she's here or not. In fact, if she were here, I'd hide her. Turner's a pain in my…," he coughed, then continued, "I beg your pardon, ladies. He's quite difficult to deal with. Add that man Palmer and those two are like rattlesnakes. Vicious. Mean. Wily. They're up to something else they'd leave that poor girl alone."

"Poor girl? What do you mean, Sheriff?" Ann asked. "Have they hurt her?"

"Mrs. Turner died while birthing the girl and the man has never gotten over it. From what I remember, he probably blamed her for killing her own mother, then shipped her off to some school far away. Haven't seen hide nor hair of her since."

"Then how do you know she's actually missing or even back in Simms?" Andrew asked.

There was a pause. "I don't. If you hear of this girl, you send her to me, not back to her father. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."

"Thank you, Sheriff, we'll do that."