Rebellious Bride by Donna Fletcher Page A

that man.”
    “I’m determined,” Lil said, the strength of her voice confirming her conviction.
    Billy came rushing through the door. He was panting like a worn-out dog. “Bibi... needs... you.”
    Lil ran out of the house in a flash.
    ~~~
    “Two weeks. Two weeks, I told you.” Lil was angry. Her hands shook, not to mention her trembling legs. Bibi was curled up in a ball in the center of her bed. “But it was only two days shy of the two weeks. I didn’t think it would matter.”
    Lil attempted to calm herself. Now was not the time to display anger. She sat on the edge of the bed and softened her voice. “It matters. Every day matters when you’re with child.”
    “I’m sorry.” Bibi’s apology was meek and barely audible.
    How could Lil explain? How could she get through to her? Bibi was barely seventeen. She had no family, and her only friends were the ladies of the saloon. She had walked into Doc Talbert’s office a year ago, bruised and battered. She had explained that she had hooked up with a farmer heading to homestead in the Dakota Territory. Her payment for the ride had been to entertain him on the trip. Only he didn’t bother to tell her he liked to play rough. When they arrived in Little she decided she had had enough and told him he was on his own. He left her standing in the street without even a backward glance.
    Lil had treated her bruises and since that day, crazy as it seemed, had felt responsible for her.
    “Am I dying?” Bibi whispered in a shaky voice.
    “No,” Lil said adamantly.
    Bibi smiled, then reached out to Lil and grabbed her hand as tightly as her weakened condition would allow. “‘I knew you wouldn’t let me die.”
    Lil felt a lump not only in her throat but in her chest as well. Bibi thought her a miracle worker and she wasn’t. “You have to listen to me, Bibi. Do you understand?”
    The young girl nodded as her eyes once again filled with tears. “I will.”
    “You’re to stay off your feet.”
    “Don’t worry. I won’t take on any more customers.”
    Lil shook her head. “No. You’re to stay off your feet completely—no customers, no kitchen work, no anything. Bed rest is all you’ll be doing.”
    Bibi’s eyes popped open wide. “I can’t do that. Susie will never let me stay here. I’ll be out on the street. I’ll—” Bibi grabbed at her stomach.
    Lil rolled up her sleeves and went to work. Several hours later Bibi was sleeping comfortably. She had been washed, placed in a clean nightgown, given a cup of chamomile tea, and assured that Susie would not throw her out on the street.
    Now all Lil had to do was speak to Susie and make certain her assurance to Bibi was honored.
    Rolfe had been sitting in the saloon for the last hour with Sam Prescott, discussing the town and ranching. Sam was perceptive. He caught on quickly. That was why Rolfe wasn’t surprised when Sam said, “You’re no greenhorn.”
    Rolfe didn’t blink an eye. He looked straight at Sam and answered. “I’ve learned a few things about this land and survival here.”
    “More than you’re letting on.” There was a hint of admiration in Sam’s voice. “I’ve got to give you credit. Most foreigners who come here don’t know squat about the area or about ranching, and they don’t want to learn. They hire men and let them run everything. Then they sit back and act like gentlemen ranchers. It’s not a good way to make friends and win the respect of neighbors.”
    “I want to make friends and win my neighbors’ respect.” Rolfe’s expression was serious as he proceeded. “But I want them to accept me and trust me, and that means also accepting me as Lord Sherborn, even though the title means nothing here. I still take pride in my heritage, and I want people to realize that.”
    “I can understand that, but don’t underestimate the people of Little. They all come from good stock too.”
    “I’ll drink to that,” Rolfe said and raised his glass in a salute.
    Sam