Chapter Seventeen

Brantley watched Rebecca ride away, feeling that emptiness in his soul grow deeper with every inch that cart traveled.

He was aware of the gang members riding in and sliding from their horses. Brantley turned his gaze to Hoff and found the man tilting his head and studying him closely. "So Brantley...."

Brantley crossed his arms over his chest. "So Hoff."

Brantley knew what was coming. He knew he was going to die. He wasn't afraid of it but that didn't mean he was real eager for it either. He wished he could know for sure that Rebecca would be okay—all he could do was hope that she would take his advice to heart and come away from knowing him with a stronger will to get what she wanted out of life.

No woman deserved to be treated the way Martin treated his wife. Hell, Rebecca was a treasure and Martin was a fool.

"I'm sorry it's come to this," Hoff stated. "We've ridden together a long time."

"Yeah," Brantley grunted."We have."

Brantley felt a hand grab his arm. He turned to see that Gilman, the yellow-bellied coward, was the first one coming for him. Brantley swung out and caught Gilman in the jaw, knocking him backward.

The gang was on him like a pack of dogs. Brantley swung a few hits and landed more than a couple but he was no match for six on one.

Pain reverberated through his body as he was thrown to the dirt and boots connected with his body over and over and over again. The world became blurry and eventually his body became limp as he lost all strength to defend himself.

"That's enough," Hoff's voice suddenly called out.

The kicks stopped suddenly. Each and every breath Brantley struggled to bring in was shallow and stabbing. He could barely see though his swelling eyes and every inch of his body was consumed with pain.

"Go on now, men. I'll catch up," Hoff ordered. Brantley struggled to concentrate on remembering to breathe as Hoff stepped over him and blocked the sun.

"You're a fool, Brantley. You threw away a good life for what? For a woman who is married to another man? I had such high hopes for you but I knew deep down this day would come eventually. You lack the heartlessness for this life."

Brantley had a hundred things he could have said in return—if his lungs weren't screaming in protest to something as simple as breathing. Hoff had been the closest thing to family Brantley had had left in the world. Why hadn't Brantley ever noticed the man's complete lack of any kind of decency?

He was unable to offer any resistance as Hoff jerked up his arms and tied his wrists together. Through his swollen eyes, Brantley saw Hoff hop onto his large black gelding.

Knowing what was coming, Brantley braced himself for the pain. As Hoff urged his horse into a gallop and Brantley was dragged along behind, his battered body bouncing and tearing across the dirt and rocks, all he could think of was Rebecca.

He imagined himself looking into those deep brown eyes and felt the soft warmth of her body against his. Brantley remembered the taste of her full lips as his world went black.

***

When they arrived at the home, Rebecca stepped inside feeling more a stranger than she ever had before. The dark, polished furniture, the finery, the extravagence of Martin's money being tossed in her face simply served to make her feel uncomfortable and angry.

He had enough money for useless solid silver candlesticks upon his over-sized mantle but not the money to pay for his wife's safety without thinking twice—or four times—about it.

Rebecca ignored Martin's voice as he ordered Tillie, the house servant, to send someone for a doctor. She went up the grand staircase and down the carpeted hall to her bedroom.

When Rebecca realized that Martin had followed her, she turned quickly. He held up his hand to silence her before she could speak. "I am willing to forgive your earlier hostility and lack of ladylike behavior. I know those men must have put you through unbearable agony."

Rebecca had always bitten her tongue around her husband. She had always worked so hard to be his image of the perfect wife. Those days were over. "Those men would not have harmed me had my loving husband simply paid the money when they asked."

It was clear that Martin was surprised by her snappy tone. His eyes widened and he tugged on his collar. "I don't know what they told you but...."

"Don't." It was Rebecca's turn to raise her hand to silence him. "I know what you did so do not bother to lie to me. Because of you, your greed, I am forever maimed. You will step out of my bedroom now and you will not ever enter it again, nor will you ask me to enter yours."

Martin stepped forward. "Now see here, this is my home and you are my wife and my word is law...."

Rebecca clenched her right fist and strode forward, feeling extreme satisfaction when Martin stumbled backward to avoid her.

"Okay, I will leave you be until you've had time to calm yourself. I will send the doctor up when he arrives." With those parting words, Martin quickly left her room, closing the door behind him.

Finally alone, Rebecca went to her bed and sat down upon it as tears began to stream from her eyes and sobs ripped from her chest.

Brantley.... Was he already dead? She hoped they hadn't made him suffer, but knew that reality was probably much crueler than her hopes. Never would Rebecca know the true happiness she so badly desired. Never would she feel Brantley's arms slide around her as she stood in front of the stove cooking a breakfast for them to share at a rickety table all their own.

She was back to being nothing but Martin's wife and she wasn't at all certain what to do about that fact. He would never divorce her—he wouldn't want the scandal—and he would never allow her to divorce him, not if she wanted to walk away with anything but the shirt on her back.

'Make it the life you want. Find your happiness.' That had been Brantley's last wish for her—and Rebecca wanted so badly to give him what he wanted.

But how?