Page 28 of Mail-Order Bride Runaway
“Oh, you.” She shook her head and tried to appear annoyed, but she couldn’t keep back the smile twitching at her lips. It felt good to find some levity in this situation. That reminder stole away her amusement and she peeked around the corner. The wagon stood in plain sight. No other conveyance or even a horse nearby. Despite the heat of the sun, a cold shiver coursed through her.
“No point in delaying.” Andy took her hand. “Act like we’re going about normal business.” He guided her from the shelter of the building and into the street.
Only Andy’s firm grip kept Della from breaking into a run. She glanced from side to side. “I don’t see him,” she whispered.
“That’s good. Keep going.”
She didn’t need to be told to do so. The road seemed to widen. Her breathing grew ragged. Dust and smoke and fear filled her lungs. One of the patient horses snorted and shifted, bringing a squawk from the shifting wheels. A horse and rider crossed before them. Della’s entire body clenched like a fist.
“No one to concern ourselves with.” Andy’s voice was soft, calming. But she wasn’t deceived. His fingers had tightened around her hand every bit as much as hers had squeezed his.
They were at the wagon. Soon, they’d soon be out of town and away from that man. She released her locked lungs in one burst.
“I’ll help you.” Andy’s hands were at her waist.
Footsteps thundered toward them. “Think ya can outrun me, do ya?”
Her heart froze. Her feet were bolted to the ground.
Andy turned toward the man, pushing Della behind him. “What can I do for you?”
If she wasn’t mistaken, his tone carried a warning. It certainly didn’t reveal any of the fear pulsing through Della.
“Ya can give me back the woman I paid for.”
The sound of Mr. Hartman’s words cut a wide swath through Della’s thoughts.
Andy gave a short laugh. “I’m not aware that we buy people.”
“Ain’t that a nice thought? I paid for a woman to come and be my wife and I aim to get what I paid for.”
Della pressed to Andy’s back. She’d crawl right inside his skin if she could.
“You can’t hide from me, miss. I see you.”
She didn’t need to look around Andy to know Mr. Hartman had taken a step closer. She felt it in the air around her, in the vibrations in her ears and in the way Andy’s shoulders pushed back.
Then Andy relaxed. Della guessed it was by sheer effort because Mr. Hartman hadn’t back away.
“You can’t marry her—”
“Says who?”
Andy slowly pulled the marriage certificate from his pocket. “This says that Miss Epps is now Mrs. Shannon. My wife.”
“Why you—”
Andy backed up, forcing Della against the wagon. He spread his arms out shielding her.
Mr. Hartman’s face appeared in front of Andy. His hands closed around Andy’s throat. “You’ll be a dead man. She’ll be a widow and happy to find someone to give her a home.”
Della’s knees failed. She would have crumpled to the ground except for the wagon behind her and Andy before her.
“Here now. Enough of that.” Two brawny men pulled Mr. Hartman away and held him with his arms pinned behind him, unphased by his angry struggles and gutter words.
The older man, tall and wiry with white stubble on his chin addressed Andy. “Did I hear you’re a Shannon?”
Andy nodded. He reached back to steady Della.
