Because of Rebecca(35)

“Are we in Grenada yet?” she murmured, sitting up.

“I don’t think so. Stay here.” He moved to the door, opened it, and climbed out of the hired carriage, which was parked, by the side of the road. The driver was nowhere in sight. The horses were still hitched, but the reins were tethered around a nearby tree. He walked around the carriage and noticed the right front wheel was cracked.

“Damnation.” He stepped back to the open door. “Don’t be alarmed, but it looks like we’ve been deserted. I’m hoping the driver has only gone for help. There’s a broken wheel.”

“What are we going to do?” Rebecca moved to the door to climb down, and he helped her out of the carriage.

“We wait a little while to see if the driver returns, if not, we take our bags and ride the horses to the nearest town. You can ride can’t you?”

“Yes.” She smiled.

“I’m surprised we slept through the incident, but the ride was bumpy. A jolt of the carriage when the wheel broke wouldn’t have seemed unusual as we slept.”

Rebecca nodded. “Surely he’ll be back. He was so nice and helpful last night when we left Memphis.”

Almost a little too helpful, Jared recalled. Maybe he shouldn’t have accepted the hotel clerk’s offer of a hired carriage to take them to Grenada. With the broken wheel, they wouldn’t be arriving at Oak Hill before Delaney.

“Let’s stand in the shade,” he suggested. “The humidity is already high, and we don’t have any water or food. I don’t want you getting ill. This isn’t the way I’d have imagined us starting our marriage.”

“Nor I.” Her cheeks pinked and he felt a jolt when she took his hand. The look she gave him made his trousers tighten. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, making love to her with his mouth and tongue.

She sighed when he reluctantly pulled away. “Forgive me for not doing this earlier, Mrs. Hollingsworth. I mean to kiss you first thing every morning for the rest of our lives.”

The flush of her cheeks deepened and she leaned into him. “I’ll have to remember that, Mr. Hollingsworth.”

Smiling, they walked to the tree line and the shade. Jared stopped abruptly when he spotted their driver lying in the tall grass about ten feet away from the trees. He couldn’t tell if the man was knocked unconscious, or if he was dead. A new carriage wheel lay near him.

Rebecca gasped and clutched his hand tighter. “Is he dead?”

“I don’t know.” He scanned the area, but didn’t notice anyone about. Their bags had still been secure to the back of the carriage, so he knew they hadn’t been robbed, yet. But if their driver was injured returning with the wheel he didn’t believe they were safe.

“Let’s walk back to the carriage slowly,” he whispered. They turned but came face to face with two masked gunmen.

“So we meet again, Hollingsworth,” one of the masked men said. “When did you start traveling with a lady? It’s so unlike you.”

Not again, Jared silently groaned. How many times was he going to be mistaken for Rory on this trip?

“Jared?” Rebecca turned to him, worry evident in her green eyes.

“He must think I’m Rory.”

“Quiet!” the man barked and jabbed the nose of his pistol into Jared’s rib cage. “I want my money back, you thievin’ horse’s ass.”

“I don’t have your money,” he gritted through clenched teeth.

“Sure you do or you wouldn’t have skedaddled out of town after I cut you.”

“I tell you I’m not the man you’re looking for. My name is Jared Hollingsworth, not Rory Hollingsworth. Rory is my cousin. We were unfortunately graced with the same looks.”

“Shut up.” The man shook his gun at them. “I don’t want to hear none of your lyin’. I heard enough of that swallow in Bixby where you swindled me out my winnings. Now hand it over.”

Jared glared at the man. Was that where Rory got the money to pay back Delaney? He took a deep breath to still his temper. He had to stay calm. Perhaps if he were rational this man would see the error he was making. “I tell you I’m not Rory Hollingsworth.”

The other gunman snorted and lifted his bandana up high enough to expose his mouth and spit tobacco juice. He wiped the excess away with the back of his hand. “Sure looks like ’im.” He spat again, repeating the process. “Same eyes, same hair.” He walked toward Jared and sniffed. “Don’t smell like ’im though. He smells too pretty, like his lady friend here, all lemony.”

“It’s verbena.” The man’s sweaty stench surrounded them and Rebecca’s nose twitched. “Do you want some?”

He laughed. “Rufus, you hear her? She wants to know if I want to smell all pretty like her.”

“Shut up you idiot. Now they know my name,” his partner roared.

The other man snickered. “If he’s Hollingsworth he should already know it. Come to think of it, why are we wearing these bandanas?”

“Get over here.”

The man loped back as ordered to stand beside Rufus, and he smacked him in the back of the head. “Now shut up.”

“I know where Rory is.” Jared silently prayed the man would take the bait. “I can take you to him.”

Rufus shook his gun at Jared. “I know where he is too and I’m lookin’ at him, ain’t I? We’re not going nowheres until I get my money. So stop your blatherin’.”

Talking to the man wasn’t working. Jared thought for a few seconds and recalled something Rufus had just said. “You say you cut Rory the last time you met. Where?”

“Your side.”

“I can prove to you I’m not Rory. Let me remove my shirt.”

Rufus shrugged and lowered the gun, but he didn’t holster it. “It won’t prove nothin’. You could be healed up by now.”

“Not if you cut Rory deep enough.” Jared took off his coat and handed it to Rebecca. He unbuttoned his waistcoat and shrugged out of it before pulling his shirt over his head and held out his arms for the man to see. He even slowly turned in a circle so Rufus could get a good look at him from all sides.

“That don’t prove nothin’. Like I said you musta healed up.”

Jared shook his head as he slipped his shirt back over his head. “A deep cut would leave a scar. As you saw, there isn’t one.”

The other man snickered. “He’s got you there, Rufus.”

“Shut up, you fool.” He glared at his cohort for a minute before he turned his attention back to them. “No more antics. I want my money, and I want it now.”

“I can’t give you what I never had.” Jared tucked his shirt back into the waist of his trousers and slipped on his waistcoat.

“Shut up.” The man gritted his teeth. He swore under his breath and pointed the pistol at Jared again.

“Sir, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop pointing that gun at my husband.” Rebecca shifted her weight and planted her hands on her hips. Jared smiled at her spunk, but feared she’d get herself shot.

“Your husband?” Rufus laughed and turned his full attention on her. “I never thought I’d hear the day that the likes of Rory Hollingsworth would get himself hitched, especially to a fine lookin’ lady like you. Maybe if you can’t pay me, Rory, I can get satisfaction in another way.”

Rebecca gasped, and Jared moved to stand in front of her. “Sounds like you know Rory well? If that’s true, then surely you have to be having some doubts that I’m him.”

Rufus raised the gun to Jared’s head and cocked it. “I said to shut your trap.”

Beads of sweat prickled across Jared’s brow. There was no reasoning with this man, no matter what he said or did. All he could think about was Rebecca. They hadn’t been married a day and she might end up a widow because of Rory and his gambling.

“Please, put down the gun.” Rebecca’s voice was steady, and despite Jared’s attempt to shield her from Rufus, she stepped from behind him. However, Jared saw the fear in her eyes. “I can assure you that this man is Jared Hollingsworth, and he’s my husband. We have documentation to prove it. We were married in Memphis before we left. If you will allow me to get my bag from the carriage, I can show you.”

“She has documentation,” the smelly man jeered. “Rufus, are you going to let her show us? Can I take her to the carriage and get her bag? I’d like to see inside their fancy carriage. Maybe get all comfy with her in there.”

Rufus moved the gun away from Jared to point at his friend. “Stop using my name, Amos, or I’ll shoot you instead.”

Amos’ eyes bulged and his nostrils flared as he stared into the barrel of the pistol. He raised his gun and pointed it at Rufus, slowly cocking it. “A-all right. Just you put down your gun, or I’ll be shooting you.”