Midnight Rider. Diana Palmer
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!
“You never cease to amaze me,” he said gently as he rode near enough for her to recognize him.
“Eduardo!” She ran toward him when he dismounted, looking up into his dark face with absolute trust and relief.
He smiled, discarding his gloves to catch her hands in his. “You’re freezing! Didn’t you have another blanket?”
“Only this one.” Her teeth chattered. “I didn’t realize it got quite this cold. Why are you here?” she added worriedly. “Did my father send you?”
His face hardened. “Maria told me what happened. I came to find you.”
“You, not my father,” she murmured sadly.
“He was going to send one of his ranch hands. I told him not to bother.”
“He should have sent one of his candidates for my bridegroom instead,” she said coldly.
“I believe the German will be on the first train north,” he said drily. “And the other gentleman probably won’t be far behind him.”
“Oh, thank God!”
He retrieved his blankets from his saddle pack and wrapped one around her before he removed the saddlebags and began to make coffee in a small pot.
“What did the German do to you, Bernadette?” he asked when he had the coffeepot on the fire and they were both sitting nearby.
She averted her embarrassed eyes in the bright light of the campfire. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter, if he’s gone.”
“It does matter! I should have shot the—”
“It’s all right,” she interrupted before he could voice the curse. “I can’t be the first woman who was ever fondled against her will.”
He looked furious. He watched her move away from the campfire and ease down onto her makeshift bed. “Were you planning to stay the night?”
She nodded. “I thought if I frightened my father enough, he might cancel his plans.”
“He’ll cancel them now,” he assured her, holding his hands to the fire. “I promise you he will.”
She let out a long sigh. “Thank you for coming to find me.”
He glanced at her curiously. “You might