Midnight Rider

“Pack me something to eat, and very quickly, please. I’m running away,” she said firmly.

Maria’s black eyebrows lifted. “But you cannot! Not alone! Please, speak to your father!”

“I did speak to him,” she said through trembling lips. “He said I’d get used to having that repulsive Branner man fondle me! I won’t, I tell you! He’s put his pudgy hands on me for the last time! I’m leaving!”

“But it is so dangerous!”

“Staying here is more dangerous,” Bernadette said. “I will not be harassed and treated like a woman of the streets by that horrible man while my father stands by and does nothing! If I don’t go, I’ll shoot him! Please pack me something to eat, and hurry, Maria, before they catch me!”

Maria mumbled worriedly in Spanish, but she did as she was asked, wrapping a piece of cold chicken and a hunk of bread, all that was left from the last meal, in a cloth and stuffing them into a saddlebag, along with a jar of canned peaches. “So little. You will starve long before night falls.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be much safer among the snakes and cactus than I will here with that German octopus!” Bernadette hugged Maria affectionately and cautiously crossed to the stable. She made the confused stable boy saddle her horse, looking around warily for anyone who might want to stop her.

Once she was in the saddle, she headed quickly for the nearby mountains, where she could hide in safety. She had no gun, but hopefully she wouldn’t need one. If she could hide out for two or three days, just long enough to frighten her father, she might get her point across. Public opinion would not be favorable to a man who sent his unhappy daughter running into the wilds of Texas to escape an unwanted suitor!

She rode until the skies began to go purple and red in late afternoon, then she stopped her mount by a small stream under some trees and unsaddled her horse, careful to tether him so that he wouldn’t wander during the night.

She did know how to build a campfire, and it was a necessary skill here in the desert country where nights could be freezing. She used her saddle for a pillow and the saddle blanket for a bed, with her colorful serape for cover. It was going to be a very uncomfortable night, but she could bear it. Anything was preferable to having that repulsive man pawing her!

But if it was easy to contemplate a night in the desert, it was harder to endure it. She knew that bandits often raided isolated camps. She had no money, but she was easily recognizable to people in the area as the daughter of its most wealthy local citizen. She could be kidnapped and held for ransom—or worse. She shivered at the thought of dirty, greedy hands on her body.

She sat looking into the flames, shivering and wondering where her mind had been for her to consider such a reckless plan of action. She jumped at every noise she heard. It was the first time she’d ever been completely alone in her life, and it was unnerving as she sat and thought of all the things that could happen to her because of her folly. The very worst was considering what might happen to her if she had an attack out here, in the middle of nowhere. She had nothing to stop one, not even coffee.

She thought of Eduardo and what he’d said to her, about the two of them conspiring to arrange their own marriage. It was the best chance she had to escape her father’s plans for her. But it frightened her a little to think of Eduardo intimately. He would need a son. It seemed to be almost a mania with men. What if she could never steel herself to sleep with him? Would he still be willing to marry her with that threat hanging over them?

* * *

WHILE SHE WAS SITTING ALONE IN the desert by her campfire, freezing under the light blanket and deliberating about her misery, something quite different was going on back at the ranch.

Eduardo had arrived, intending to see Colston Barron and put the proposition of marrying Bernadette to him one more time. If the man refused, he could simply elope with his intended bride. Possession was, after all, nine-tenths of the law, and Bernadette was willing.

The ranch owner was in his study with a slight, dark man and a heavyset older one, and they were examining a fowling piece when Eduardo was shown in by Maria.

“Well, Eduardo!” Colston said, nonplussed. “I wasn’t expecting you. You haven’t been to see us in such a long time that I thought you’d put us right out of your life, lad!”

Eduardo glanced at the small, younger man and then at the German with barely concealed contempt. Having had a brief conversation with Maria already, he was infuriated by Colston’s lack of action on Bernadette’s behalf.

“I came to ask a question, but it can wait. Are you aware,” Eduardo continued in a cold, quiet tone, “that Bernadette has run away?”

The little Irishman’s eyes almost popped out of his round face. “She’s...what?”

“Run away,” Eduardo repeated. “Maria says she’s been gone for the better part of an hour. Didn’t you know?”

Colston colored. “Well, no.”

“And I suppose her reason is as vague to you as her absence?” he added, glaring daggers at the German nobleman, who colored with embarrassment.

Colston cleared his throat. “Never mind that. Where do you think she’s gone?”

“Probably to the mountains,” Eduardo said through his teeth. “And a rancher nearby has just had cattle stolen by a group of outlaws. It is not a good time for Bernadette to be alone and unprotected, especially in her weakened physical condition!”

Colston felt like going through the floor. His inadequacies were being paraded like horses before his honored guests. His fists clenched. “I’ll have one of my men go and look for her at once,” he said.

“You’ll do nothing of the sort!” Eduardo returned, his temper aroused and evident. “If you don’t care enough to look for her yourself, don’t bother. I’ll find her and bring her back!”

Colston wavered between relief and indignation. “I appreciate your help, lad, but my daughter is no concern of yours—”

“Or of yours, apparently.” Eduardo’s onyx eyes were snapping. “What a hell of a pity that a young woman can’t escape being molested in her own home!”

“Now, see here!” Colston began.

“Who is this crude upstart?” the German demanded in his thickly accented English.

Eduardo moved toward him with a lithe, steady gait that was intimidating enough to make the shorter, more rotund foreign nobleman back up a step. “I’ll tell you who I am,” Eduardo said with ice dripping from every syllable. “I’m a friend of the family. And if you’re still here when I bring Bernadette home, you’ll wish you weren’t.”

With a final glare at Colston, he turned and strode angrily out the door.

Colston swallowed and then swallowed again. The Italian, who hadn’t said a word, smiled ruefully.

“I think that your daughter will not marry either of us, signore,” the Italian mused, “if that man has his way.”

“I no longer wish to marry her,” Herr Branner said gruffly, scrambling to save his wounded ego. “She is cold. She has no spark. Such a woman would drive a man mad.” He bowed to Colston formally. “If you will provide a buggy and one of your men to drive me to the station, Herr Barron, I will make my departure. Sadly, I must tell you that I cannot remain for your ball.”

He clicked his heels and was gone before Colston could think of a word to say to stop him.

“Since I have no wish to marry your daughter, either, I might as well go with him,” Maretti said with a chuckle. “I would enjoy the ball, but not under the circumstances. May I extend my congratulations and my condolences to you on your daughter’s forthcoming marriage. I believe you will find your prospective son-in-law something of a trial.”

Colston’s only consolation was that Eduardo had connections to European royalty, and the man had been, after all, his first choice. It amazed him that Eduardo should deliberately stay away for weeks and then suddenly arrive at the worst possible time. On the other hand, his vehemence on Bernadette’s behalf was quite encouraging. All might not be lost.

At least Eduardo would find the girl; Colston had no doubt of that. But he dreaded the reappearance of the two of them.

* * *

EDUARDO RODE OUT TOWARD THE distant mountains, still smoldering at Bernadette’s father’s callous attitude toward her. What sort of father would leave his daughter wide open to unwanted advances from a houseguest, regardless of the reason? He hated the very thought of another man’s hands on Bernadette.

He tracked her to the mountains and then had to slow his pace as her trail became more difficult to follow. He heard a sound that chilled his blood—the scream of a puma. That was another danger that Bernadette probably hadn’t thought of, and he was certain that she wasn’t armed. He always wore a sidearm and carried a rifle. He hoped he wouldn’t need them.

As darkness began to fall in earnest, he worried that he might not find her in time to spare her a terrifying night alone in the desert. The night air wouldn’t be good for her weak lungs, and few people realized how cold it became after the sun set. He always carried two blankets in his saddle pack, just in case.

He was so frustrated that he almost missed the faint smell of smoke. Then, when a whiff of burning wood came to him, his heart leaped. He dismounted and climbed up on a boulder to get a better look in the direction from which he believed the smoke came. Sure enough, he spotted a small campfire down below.

It was precarious going down the slope in the dark, but his gelding was surefooted and careful, and he took his time.

As he rode into the small circle of light the campfire provided, Bernadette jumped to her feet with a blanket around her and stood shivering as she waited for him to come close enough to see.

She lifted her chin. “You’d better not come any closer,” she called hoarsely. “My father and brothers are just outside the camp. They’ll hear me if I scream!”

He chuckled at her nerve. She looked fragile and vulnerable, but what spirit, even in the face of tangible danger!