Mystic Mountains

cradled Annie in her arms. Both grinned widely. "Help your mistress to pack up camp, Johnny. I'll expect you back by nightfall."
    "Oh, you will eh? I haven 't agreed yet. You think to sway me with a fancy bauble or two, do you?" Isabella tried to give him a look of scorn, but it went awry.
    "I 'll send men back to get Jones' body. And I'll leave you to make up your mind, Mistress Isabella. A life alone out here struggling to get by. Or a life alongside me. I have to go now." He strode to Satan, mounted and rode away without a backward glance.
    "Arrogant Englishman. " Isabella muttered, taking Annie from Agnes' arms.

 
     
     
    Chapter Thirty Four
     
    Isabella straightened her bonnet. He'd won again. Still and all she had made her break. If he didn't keep to his word she would leave him again. And for good. Every person deserved at least one more chance to prove themselves.
    Who was she trying to deceive? To stay away from Tiger was like trying to live without breathing. She saw him now standing beside one of the huts.
    "Who's that man and lady with Tiger?" Tim asked, voicing her own question.
    "I don 't know . . . but I think it's . . . yes Tim, it's Gracie. The lady is Gracie." Standing, and feeling as excited as a child, she waved. "Gracie!"
    Gracie returned her wave with exuberance. By now they were near enough for Isabella to see the young man standing beside them.
    No, it couldn 't be, surely it wasn't . . .?
    "Jer emy?" she whispered as the wagon rolled to a standstill and Gracie came at a near run, her arms above her head.
      Tiger followed , reaching up to help Isabella down. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked him as Gracie reached her and they hugged each other fiercely.
    "I didn 't want to influence your decision."
    "Let me look at you, girl," Gracie cried, easing back to stare hard at Isabella 's face. "You'll do." She patted Isabella's tear streaked cheek and winked.
    "Gracie? I can't believe it's really you. I have such a lot to tell you. But what are you doing here?" Isabella brushed at her face, laughing and sniffing back tears as she gripped Gracie's hand.
    "Well, now." Gracie nudged her arm. "Your man 'ere tells me you're in dire need of a woman to 'elp in the kitchen of your fine new 'ouse when it's finished. I got me pardon and was a-thinking of marrying this bloke who's 'ad 'is beady eyes on me for a while." Gracie plumped up her breasts and guffawed. "But, lawdy no, I thought to meself. What do I want to be lumbered with 'im for at this late stage in me life, eh? 'E was only after a skivvy and a bedwarmer in 'is old age. So, 'ere I am."
    Gracie spread her arms, waving the hand Isabella gripped up and down. "And look at yer fine boy." She grinned at Tim. "And I 'ear you 'ave a baby as well." She gazed fondly at Isabella. "Seems you 'ave yer 'ands full."
    "Aye, Gracie, we have a bonny daughter. Wait 'til you see her. And Tim here is spoilt by everyone. He needs a firm hand like yours to pull him in line."
    "Crikey, Bella, it 's gonna be grand. Just the ticket." Gracie took a look around, beaming. "This man of yours tells me you've been a bit stubborn starting out on yer own like, but looks like yer back to stay, ain't yer?" Gracie winked as she waited on Isabella's answer.
    "That depends. " Isabella turned her attention to the man who stood, his cabbage tree hat held by the brim.
    "Hello Bella," he said quietly, and she stared, her mouth agape. "Don 't you recognise your own brother?" His grin was wide and achingly familiar.
    Isabella put her fingers to her mouth. "Remy? It is you." Her eyes went from his scuffed boots to the top of his head, where dark red hair curled about his smiling face. "Is it really you?"
    "That 's right, girl, it's me." His voice cracked as he reached for one of her hands and squeezed it. Isabella could feel the rough callused skin against her palm.
    "You 're all grown up," she declared, surveying the face that bore signs of hardship. His eyes were lackluster, as if they'd seen far too much suffering. "You're so tall." Although his frame was large his skin seemed to hang on it; what she could see above his shirt and on his bared arms. He looked as if he'd been starved of sustenance over a great period of time.
    "I 'm twenty-two. And changed a mite since we last met, eh?" He wagged her hand up and down, smiling crookedly.
    "You certainly have, R emy." Isabella pulled him into her arms. More tears flowed as she rubbed his back, much as she'd done when he was small and