The arrival of the real Ivy Ann Brown and her parents—and the untangling of why Laurel had chosen to masquerade as her twin—offered an even more interesting topic of discussion than the Rock Springs bank robbery. After the first initial shock, when Adam’s heart had cried out in gladness at the sight of that blue gown, he fell prey to more emotions than he had known existed: disillusionment that the young woman he had put on a pedestal could have deceived him; joy that the real Laurel was not Ivy Ann; and wariness in his dealings with either twin. When Nat began squiring Laurel, all he felt was jealousy, pure and simple.
Dan Sharpe soon transferred his affections. Ivy Ann’s welcome of him as part of her new life soothed the blow to his vanity that Laurel had dealt with her indifference. He even accompanied Ivy to church at her insistence. Caught up in gladness over being with Laurel again, Ivy took to the range like a rabbit to its burrow. Never a Sunday afternoon passed but what the wide porch of the old ranchhouse on the Double B was crowded with riders in their best.
During the week, Ivy Ann rode with whatever hand she could pry loose from her father’s iron supervision. To the family’s amazement, Laurel preferred to stay in town with Mrs. Terry and keep her job until winter when the married daughter and son-in-law planned to come back, build onto the cabin, and live with the kindly woman.
“I started a job and I’d like to finish it,” she wistfully told her parents. She didn’t add that even glimpses of Adam rewarded her diligent search for him every time she went out. Or that Nat offered strong support. He had come the same evening her family arrived and asked to see her alone.
“It’s been a terrible shock but I believe that in time he will forgive you,” Nat comforted. “In the meantime, may I accompany you now and then?” He added irrelevantly, “That sister of yours could be quite a woman if she were more like you.”
At last they arranged things so Laurel would go home weekends but stay in town during the week. Before long and in spite of her own preoccupation, Laurel saw small signs that convinced her Nat had fallen in love with Ivy Ann. Poor Nat! Although she could see some changes in Ivy, the chances she would ever consider marrying a minister were a thousand to one. Nat never expressed his feelings but Laurel felt sure she saw them in his dark, expressive eyes.
“Ivy Ann,” Laurel said one Sunday evening just before she left to ride back to Antelope, “I don’t want to interfere but you do know Dan Sharpe is in love with you?”
“As if any decent girl could care for him,” Ivy scoffed and shook her light brown curls until they danced. “He is so stuck on himself I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to tell God when to make the sun come up and go down!” A shrewd look made her appear far older than almost twenty-one. “Besides, Sally Mae said Dan was crazy about you. The only reason he likes me is to get back at you for turning him down.”
“Don’t be foolish.” Laurel blushed.
Ivy Ann stretched her round white arms, bare to the elbow. “You know who I think is the nicest man out here?”
Adam, Laurel’s aching heart cried. She sat up straight on her sister’s bed.
“Nathaniel Birchfield.” Warm color added beauty to the lightly tanned face and her dark eyes shone. “I know he’d never look at me and I could never be good enough for him, but I do admire him. He’s so much like Adam, and then some.”
Laurel felt relief pour through her. Just having Ivy not interested in Adam meant a lot. She considered dropping a hint to her twin and changed her mind immediately. Once before she had fallen into a mess because of Ivy Ann. Never again.
The following Saturday dawned as one of the most beautiful days of summer. Laurel and Ivy Ann scorned the hopeful offers of a dozen escorts and set out for a long ride. Delicious and filling sandwiches, cookies, and two blushing peaches from some Dan Sharpe had brought rested in their saddle bags. Their canteens were full in case they chose to go up rather than down to the river or if they didn’t find a stream to quench their summer thirst.
“Do you realize this will be the longest time we’ve had together since I got here?” Ivy Ann reined in her mount atop a low rise that afforded a view of the rolling Double B with its surrounding mountains.
“I know, it’s wonderful.” Laurel meant it. The new twin her sister had become didn’t jangle on Laurel’s nerves but offered the same companionship they’d known before Ivy Ann discovered beaux.
“We have to stay on main trails,” she warned and nudged her horse’s sides with her heels.
“You won’t catch me getting lost in this place,” Ivy Ann said emphatically and she lifted one eyebrow. “Of course, if the right person or persons came along to rescue us—”
“You’re impossible!” Laurel couldn’t help laughing and thinking it wouldn’t be so bad after all, provided that rescue party included Adam.
Three hours later she paid for her daydreaming. With Laurel’s hands slack on the reins as her horse stepped into a gopher hole, Laurel pitched over the horse’s head and landed in a heap.
“Laurel!” Ivy Ann screamed then slid from her horse and ran to her sister. “Are you hurt?”
Laurel shook her head and spit out a mouthful of pine needles. “Ugh! I don’t think so, oh, oh.” She tried to stand but went down when her ankle refused to support her. “I—I guess I sprained it.” She felt her ankle gingerly. “I don’t think anything’s broken.”
“Good.” Ivy Ann pushed Laurel’s hand away and gently pulled off her boot. “It’s starting to swell.”
Laurel’s horrified gaze riveted on the ankle.
“Can you ride with it like that?”
Laurel shook her head. “You’ll have to go for help.”
“And leave you?” Tears streamed down her cheeks, and Ivy glanced around the country that had seemed so beautiful but now appeared threatening.
“We have no choice.” Laurel knew she had to be strong. “Leave me some of the sandwiches and….” She broke off and stared behind Ivy Ann.
“What’s wrong?” Ivy turned.
“I thought I saw something move behind that big pine but I guess there’s nothing there.”
Ivy Ann cast a fearful glance then bravely marched to it. “I don’t see anything.” She looked at the sky and noted the sun’s position. “Why can’t I just stay with you? Daddy will send someone.”
“But not for hours,” Laurel pointed out, as she bit her lip against the pain and fear falling over her like a blanket. “We told them we’d be gone all day. Hurry home and get help.”
Five minutes later she watched her twin bolting down the grassy hillside and out of sight as if the devil himself pursued her.
Another few minutes passed before a familiar drawling voice cut the eerie silence. “Well, Miss Ivy Ann. I’ve been biding my time just waiting to cut you out of the herd. Looks like it’s paid off.”
Laurel twisted her body and stared straight into Dan Sharpe’s tiger eyes, more amber than ever in contrast to his bay horse.
“I’m not—” Ivy Ann, she started to say.
He didn’t let her finish. “What happened?” He stepped nearer and genuine concern showed when he saw her exposed ankle. “You really messed yourself up, didn’t you?” He dropped to his knees and pressed here and there.
“That hurts!” Laurel tried to pull her foot free but Dan held it fast.
“I’m on my knees to you. Isn’t that what every girl wants?” Again he gave her no time to answer but sauntered to her horse. He grunted when he found the sandwiches carefully wrapped in an old napkin and transferred them to a clean rock nearby. “I’m not skilled like the Doc but wrapping it will help enough so you can ride.” He deftly made a bandage and tied the ends.
“My sister has gone for help, thank you.” Laurel’s icy tones didn’t faze him.
“Oh, we won’t be going exactly the same way.” He shoved his hat back on his head, more predatory than ever. “I know this nice little place not far from here where we can stay, that is, until you promise to marry me.”
“Marry you?” Was he totally mad? Laurel’s brain seemed to explode.
“Look, Ivy Ann.” He hunkered back on his boot heels. “If you’re going to live out here you need a husband. The sooner the better. I’ve never asked a woman to marry me and I never thought I would but you aren’t just any woman. First off, I fell for your sister but since getting to know you, I decided I like your spunk better.” He smiled and she wanted to hit him.
“Now I’m going to get you onto your horse. Don’t get any wild ideas about running away because I can catch you.”
“You will be hanged for this,” Laurel predicted, her tone cold and clear in spite of the hot day. “Even Antelope, wild as it is, won’t allow a kidnapping.”
“My dear, ignorant girl.” He raised his tawny eyebrows in mock surprise. “An elopement isn’t considered kidnapping even in the East, is it? I’ll get you settled comfortably and go find a preacher. Sorry you can’t have a church wedding and all that with the Reverend Birchfield presiding, but I know a justice of the peace who will come for certain considerations and keep his mouth shut about any story a timid bride might concoct.”
Dear God, are You here? Laurel looked up with a silent cry in her heart. The same snow-topped mountains she loved reared against the same sky. Uneasy peace nudged aside some of her fears as she clung to her faith and trust in God with all her heart and soul.
Even when her lips whitened with pain as Dan lifted her into the saddle she held back tears.
“This is no good,” he said as he lifted her off and laid her back on the needle-covered ground. The he smartly slapped her horse’s rump. “He will head for home,” Dan said. “They’ll think he broke free.” He picked her up and in spite of his small stature easily carried her to the bay and mounted, cradling her so her injured foot could be supported across the saddle.
“They will track us,” Laurel warned through waves of pain when he started.
“Not where we’re going.” He chuckled and a few minutes later when he left the soft ground and his horse’s hooves clattered on rocks it took everything Laurel had to keep her from despair.
Too engrossed with carrying the injured girl to heed his surroundings, Dan’s usually keen hearing missed small, cautious sounds that warned someone pursued them. Ivy Ann had no more than ridden out of sight when she realized she still carried the water canteen. Wheeling her horse back the way she had come, uneasiness filled her as she glanced around. Why did she feel another presence? Had Laurel really seen something move?
The thud of hooves roused Ivy and she swung her horse out of the way of the approaching steed headed straight toward her. Her eyes widened. Laurel had ridden that very horse this morning! She watched the frightened beast rush by, obviously headed for the Double B. What had happened to terrify him like that? she wondered.
Ivy Ann set her mouth in a straight, unyielding line. Something peculiar must be happening where she’d left Laurel and she had to know what it was. She slid from the saddle while still a short distance from the site of Laurel’s accident and tied her horse to a tree, making sure the knots would hold. “Stay here and be quiet,” she ordered.
Dodging behind trees Ivy sneaked back, her heart pounding from exertion, fear, and caution. Low voices reached her. A spurt of gladness vanished when she peeped out from her sheltered position. She shoved her hand over her mouth to keep back a cry.
In the clearing before her Dan Sharpe was mounting a strong bay, and he had Laurel in his arms.
“They will track us.” Laurel’s faint words reached her twin’s straining ears.
“Not where we’re going.” Ivy hated Dan’s laugh. Rebellion rose in a wave of protest but she sensibly stayed out of sight. That’s what you think, she thought to herself. Her busy fingers jerked off the scarf she wore under her chin and methodically tore it into narrow strips. “Just like in the storybooks.” She grinned in spite of her worry and slipped back for her horse.
Step by careful step Ivy Ann followed the doubly burdened bay. When they reached the rocks and the horse ahead clattered on them, Ivy’s hope failed. “Dear God, now what?” A few minutes later the pampered girl who must now become resourceful managed to fashion pads for her own mount’s hooves of Sadie Brown’s worn tablecloth.
Ivy Ann listened hard to make sure she was still on the right trail. The distant crack of sturdily shod hooves on rock rewarded her and she swung back into the saddle, hot and tired but filled with the most satisfaction she had ever experienced. The next instant she bowed her head. “Thank you, God. I know You helped me think what to do.”
All afternoon she trailed her quarry from afar. She only caught glimpses now and then. To allow her horse to get too close to the bay could result in disaster if either whinnied.
Just when the drooping girl felt she couldn’t stay in the saddle one more minute, she heard Dan Sharpe’s “Whoa.” She straightened and stopped her horse. Again she tied him. Again she sneaked forward and peered out from cover like a ground squirrel from under a bush. Dan had dismounted and the open door of a rude shack bore witness he had reached his destination.
Ivy Ann crept closer. If only the shack had a window! She wormed her way around back and confronted a blank, weather-beaten solid wall. A little sob reached her throat and she backed toward the side of the cabin. Concern for Laurel overcame prudence. She stepped on a large dry pine cone and its disintegration came with a riflelike crack.
Strong hands fastened on her shoulders and whirled her around. “Who—what—?” Dan Sharpe’s mouth fell open but his grip didn’t diminish.
“Hello, Dan.” She jerked free in spite of the searing pain it cost her.
“Laurel? No, Ivy Ann. But—” He turned his head toward the shack. The next instant he had forced her ahead of him around the corner, onto the rotting porch and through the door of the shack.
Laurel sat on a blanketed cot, her injured ankle straight out before her. Her eyes darkened when Ivy Ann burst in with Dan just behind.
“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t Ivy Ann?” Dan raged. “Some more of your smart tricks?” When neither girl replied he flung his hat onto a dirty table and wiped the sweat from his forehead. His smile slowly replaced the anger in his face but its chill roused more fear in Laurel than his accusations. She glanced at Ivy who had closed her eyes, swallowed convulsively, and then opened them with a disarming expression.
“Looks like you won the jackpot, doesn’t it, Dan?” Her rueful smile and the way she rubbed her aching shoulders made Laurel gasp as well as Dan. “Here we are. Now what?”
In the split second Dan’s gaze left her and traveled to Laurel, Ivy glanced around the cabin for a weapon. If this were a novel an old knife should be sticking in the wall. Even if she could find one, could she bring herself to stab Dan? She shuddered at the thought then steeled herself at the gloating in Dan’s eyes when he turned back to her. Laurel couldn’t help; anything done to free them must come from Ivy.
“Just what are your plans?” tore from her throat.
“I had planned to tie up my bride-to-be and go get a justice of the peace,” Dan responded.
Horror showed in Laurel’s face and in the heartbeat before Ivy Ann spoke a hundred thoughts thundered into her brain. For the first time in her life she had the chance to do something worthy. If it meant sacrificing herself to save Laurel, then she had no choice. Dear God, give me strength. Ivy clasped her hands in front of her in a demure pose. She glanced down then up through her lashes in the coquettish way she had done so often.
“You went to all this trouble just to marry me? Why, Dan, I’m flattered beyond belief.” She forced herself to smile and look around the cabin as if considering every spider web and speck of dust. “It isn’t the exact surroundings I’d have picked, but if people are in love, it doesn’t matter, does it?” All true, she soothed her protesting conscience. Her keen gaze hesitated on the untidy stack of cut branches near the rough fireplace then turned back to Dan. He must not know her plans. She proudly lifted her chin in the best Brown manner.
“Laurel, you will be my bridesmaid, won’t you?” She laughed into the two faces staring at her like white blobs and triumphed over her fear.
“No, oh no!” Laurel leaped to her feet without regard to her ankle then crumpled to the floor.
With an oath Dan sprang to lift her back on to the cot but not as quickly as Ivy Ann. With a silent cry to God for help she bounded the few steps toward the wood pile, snatched the strongest looking length of pine branch, raised it, and sent it crashing against the back of Dan Sharpe’s head.
He collapsed without a single cry as Laurel fell to the cot.