harm than good here in the South. Every cowhand who knew him to be a man of honor had died at the Red River. Vincent Edward had been his only friend who grew up in Texas, and he’d disappeared during the stampede. No one would probably ever find his body or be able to identify it.
‘‘What’ll we do?’’ Daniel paced. The worry reflecting in his face made him look almost as old as his brothers. ‘‘It’s only a matter of time before they get here. I only made it first because I know the trail.’’
‘‘I’ll handle it.’’ Wes hardened his jaw.
‘‘No.’’ Adam did the same. ‘‘We’ll handle it. We’re your brothers. We stand together.’’
‘‘It she wants to run, she can take my horse,’’ Daniel offered. ‘‘It’s tied out back. We can’t keep her here against her will or we’d be no better than the one called Louis. But if she goes, so does your proof that she came with you willingly last night.’’
‘‘If we let her run, we’ll all be dead before they figure out she isn’t here,’’ Wes answered. ‘‘I got myself into this. You’re a doctor, Adam, and you’re a man of God, Daniel. The two of you have responsibilities. When they come, they’ll only be looking for me. I don’t want you two getting in the line of fire.’’
Both brothers seemed to have gone as deaf as the wild woman.
‘‘If she stays, she’s still Louis’s ward.’’ Daniel glanced from her to Wes. ‘‘And in this state that means he can do whatever he wants with her, including beat her half to death.’’
‘‘But she’s a woman, fully grown.’’ Wes reached for his rifle by the window. The sound of horses arriving drifted across the morning air. ‘‘He’ll put her back in a cage and treat her worse than an animal.’’
‘‘She’s his ward until she marries,’’ Daniel explained as he grabbed Adam’s rifle from above the wardrobe. Though he might be a man of the cloth by profession, he was a McLain by blood.
Horses thundered to a halt at the porch out front. All three brothers straightened, preparing, hardening to face whatever came through the door.
Adam slid his Colt into the band of his trousers at his spine and straightened the string tie at his throat. He moved toward the front door of his home. ‘‘Then marry her,’’ he whispered as he passed his brothers. ‘‘I’ll stall them for as long as I can.’’ He disappeared into the hallway.
‘‘That’s insane!’’ Wes made no effort to keep his voice down. He glanced at the woman, who still held her weapon. For a moment he remembered the soft creature who had lain next to him before dawn. Where had that woman gone?
‘‘Adam’s right.’’ Daniel nodded. ‘‘If you’re married, they’ll have no right to take her back. I can perform the ceremony right now. But I’ll not marry a woman who’s not willing.’’
Wes saw the idea as hopeless. ‘‘How are we going to know if she’s willing? She hasn’t spoken a word.’’
Daniel leaned his rifle against the desk and took a few steps toward the woman. She backed up against the wood between the windows-the knife still tight in her hand.
Daniel leaned over the bed and opened the window. ‘‘Crawl out if you like. My horse is tied to the back porch.’’ He pointed, showing her the way. ‘‘If they catch you, they will probably force you to go back to the man who calls himself a preacher or put you away. Or you can run toward the front to find Louis if you want to go back to him.’’
She didn’t move as he straightened.
He pulled a thin gold band from his little finger. ‘‘Or put on this band and be married to my brother. No one can force you to go back then.’’ Daniel glanced at Wes. ‘‘He’s not much of an option. To be honest, he’s broke, drinks more than most, short-tempered, and generally hard to get along with. But I’d swear on my life that he’d never hurt you.’’
‘‘Thanks for the glowing recommendation.’’ Wes watched, but she didn’t move. ‘‘What makes you think I want a wife? Even one this willing and friendly. The idea of marrying me seems a fate worse than death for most women, judging from my track record. I doubt this one would see it any different, even if she did understand a word you’re saying.’’
Daniel frowned. They could hear the men yelling from the doorway. ‘‘You don’t have a choice. They hang men in this state for kidnapping.’’
A shot rang out. Both brothers grabbed their weapons and moved toward the door.
Shouts echoed from the hallway as they took positions by the door and waited.
Daniel glanced back. The woman was still there.
‘‘Do you?’’ he asked as she lifted the ring that had once belonged to his wife.
She nodded slightly.
‘‘What about me?’’ Wes snapped. ‘‘Don’t I get a vote?’’
Daniel shook his head. ‘‘She’s willing and you’re breathing. I pronounce you man and wife.’’
SIX
ALLIE CROUCHED BESIDE THE BED UNTIL SHEcould just see over the tossed sheets. There was no doubt in her mind that everyone in the room was crazy. She’d heard old folks tell stories about how an entire tribe would go mad from eating strange roots or drinking bad water. This McLain tribe was worse than she first thought.
The huge, blond one they called Daniel said he was a man of the cloth, but he didn’t look like any preacher she’d ever seen. His arms and legs were thick as tree trunks, and he swung a rifle like a man who was used to having it fit his hand. He was younger and less talkative than his brothers but no less stubborn.
The doctor had kind eyes and a gentle way about him that made her want to believe him. But he’d walked out of the room with only a pistol, so he couldn’t be overly blessed with brains. Allie guessed, from the sound of the many horses, that Adam faced more trouble than a sixshooter would solve.
And then there was Wes, the man with the scar. He talked rough and acted angry most of the time. But he’d saved her from the cage and held her so gently before dawn that the memory of his arms still lingered against her skin. Now he stood beside the doorway, listening to all the shouting as if he were strong enough to rush out and help his brother. He tried to steady himself along the wall and held in the pain at his side with his free hand. Allie knew he was too weak to fight.
She glanced down at the ring on her finger. Her mother had worn such a band of gold. She’d told Allie once that when a woman puts such a ring on she never takes it off-not ever. Allie knew what it meant. She and Wes were married. Daniel had said so. She knew it wouldn’t be for long. A fight was coming and when it did Wes would die early in the battle. He was a warrior weakened by his injury.
Her gaze fixed on Wes, really looking at him for the first time. He was a good man, she decided. Honored by his brothers, who came to fight at his side. She’d gladly help him if she could, but two knives would do little in a war with guns. So she made up her mind that when the time came, she’d hold him as he died, and when the battle was over, she’d stand proud to be his widow. There was great dignity in being such a man’s wife and honor in being his widow. She’d wear the ring forever in honor of his bravery.
Shouts rang from the hallway. The sound of stomping boots echoed, making the intruders seem legions more. She lowered slightly, awaiting the storm.
‘‘Weston McLain, we know you’re in there!’’ someone yelled from beyond the door.
Allie heard Wes swear beneath his breath. She didn’t have to understand every word to know how he felt. They’d come for him.
‘‘Let the wild girl go, and give yourself up!’’ an angry voice echoed off the hallway walls.
‘‘Come and get her!’’ Wes answered as he straightened. ‘‘I’ve never backed down or given up. I’ll not come out without a fight.’’
‘‘Stop stalling!’’ another yelled. ‘‘You haven’t got a chance.’’
Allie moved past the bed to a few inches behind Wes. If he was going to fight, the least she could do was cover his back. She drew the other knife.
Mumblings came from the crowd as Adam retreated into the room like a man avoiding the ever-rising wash of a wave. Only this wave was a line of well-armed, dust-covered men.
Adam’s hands were held high, to make peace, but no one was listening to his reasoning. Wes and Daniel flanked him with their guns at gut level. The brothers moved to the center of the room.
‘‘You’re not taking the woman,’’ Adam said in a controlled voice. He lowered his hands slowly and pulled the
