Priscilla (The Widows of Wildcat Ridge Series Book 1)

by Charlene Raddon

  "Mrs. Fugit and I have examined the papers filed for her claim and all looks to me to be in order. We also studied Mr. Crane's claim for the Gold King. It does not include Wildcat Mountain. It covers the west side of Moose Mountain, Moose Creek, Moose Canyon, and the thirty acres of land the main section of town occupies. He can stop you from putting your road where you originally planned, but you need only move it a mile west to be off his property."

  "Excellent information, Mr. Vaile," Braxton said. "I'm relieved to hear it."

  "Please, call me Owen. It's my middle name." He grinned. "No one calls me Cornelius."

  Braxton acknowledged the request with a nod. "How long do you plan to stay in town, Owen?"

  "Well, it depends." He glanced at Hester, who blushed a rosy pink. "On several things."

  "We could use a permanent lawyer in Wildcat Ridge," Priscilla said. "You see that law office across the street? That was my husband, Robert's office. He's no longer with us, I'm afraid, but I know he'd be happy to let you use the office. It's of no use to me now."

  His gaze went to the window and the building across the street. "Why, that's very kind of you, Mrs. Heartsel. I’m sorry for your loss, and I assure you I'll take good care of your husband's office. Thank you."

  "You're welcome."

  "It appears to be a fine town," Owen said, his tone turning more jovial. "A shame what's happened to it, but I feel certain opening up your hot springs will bring it back to life."

  "Will you s-stay long enough to tell Mr. Crane he has no claim to our hot s-springs?" Hester asked, seeming to have developed a stutter when the lawyer looked at her, which was often.

  "Indeed," Owen replied. "I'm looking forward to locking horns with your Mortimer Crane. He sounds like a challenging foe."

  "Oh, I will be. I promise."

  The group turned to see Mortimer standing in the doorway. He entered and closed the door.

  Owen stepped forward, hand extended. "Ah, you must be Mr. Mortimer Crane. I'm Cornelius Owen Vaile, Attorney-at-Law. I'm glad to meet you."

  Mortimer gave the man a dismissive look and ignored the proffered hand, zeroing in on Hester instead. "So, you've hired a lawyer to cheat me out of what's mine, is that it? Well, you're wasting your money. Money owed to me, I might add." He circled the group as if assessing them and finding them lacking. "Well, I have attorneys too. Excellent attorneys who'll beat you with their hands tied behind their backs. What you're calling Wildcat Mountain is part of Moose Mountain which I own. You have no claims whatsoever."

  "I assume you have a deed showing this claim of ownership?" Owen asked.

  "Of course, I do. You think I'm an idiot?" Mortimer's eyes flashed fire. He appeared to be working up to a fine temper.

  Priscilla hoped the confrontation didn't become physical. She abhorred fisticuffs, and certainly didn't want Braxton involved. He might be hurt.

  "Rather odd, don't you think, the claims officer having no record of you owning any part of Wildcat Mountain?"

  Mortimer walked over to stand before Braxton who towered over the older man. "Is that what they told you?" He chuckled. "Idiots. They didn't check well. I think if you go back, you'll find my claim in order."

  Braxton nodded, smiling. "I see. You think you've hired someone who can alter the records and make it appear you owned Wildcat Mountain all along. Is that it?"

  Mortimer's eyes bulged, and his cheeks flushed beet-red. "Why, you interfering upstart. You've a hard lesson to learn, boy."

  "Is that a threat, Morty?" Braxton asked.

  Priscilla took his hand trying to urge him to ease up and not cause trouble. She feared Mortimer had more power than Braxton realized, but he ignored her.

  "I'd be very careful answering, if I were you, Mr. Crane," Owen Vaile advised. "I happen to be a Superior Court Judge as well as an attorney and a witness to the goings-on here today. I, too, have examined the claims records and noted yours does not include any part of Wildcat Mountain."

  Mortimer paled a little. "It-It does too. I… You'll find out. I will win this battle. The hot springs on Wildcat Mountain belong to me."

  Spinning on his heel, he marched out the door.

  A loud sigh of relief filled the room.

  "Oh, Braxton, you've truly angered him now," Priscilla said. "Aren't you worried how he might retaliate? I don't think he's above hiring a gunman to shoot you down."

  "She has a point," Owen said. "I'd be very cautious in the days and weeks to come. That man won't slink off somewhere like a beaten dog. I know his type. He'll only become sneakier and dirtier."

  "With all the strangers coming to town for the auction, how will you know if one is a hired thug or gunman?" Hester asked. "Owen is right, you must be careful from now on."

  "Yes, Braxton," Priscilla said. "Please don't do anything to ruin everything now."

  Drawing her to his side, he looked down at her and smiled. "I won't. I promise."

  Following the meeting, Braxton walked Priscilla and Thalia home. Priscilla tried to stay with Thalia, but he insisted he accompany her home and Thalia agreed, pushing her out the door.

  "Would you like to come in?" she asked when they reached her house.

  He nodded and followed her inside.

  After she served a beverage and sat down on the settee, Braxton moved to sit beside her. Priscilla's heart raced, waiting to see what he would do next.

  Kiss me, kiss me, her heart cried.

  No, no, no, her brain objected.

  "Priscilla," Braxton began. "I wanted to talk to you about something. Right now, Mortimer is the only one in town who thinks we are engaged, but the news is bound to spread. You know how small towns are."

  "It doesn't matter," she said. "I'll just explain. The ladies will understand."

  "I don't want them to understand. I want it to be true."

  He moved to one knee in front of her and Priscilla thought surely, she'd faint.

  "Please, Priscilla. Say you'll marry me. I promise to be a good husband and do all I can to make you happy."

  Yes, yes, yes!

  "Braxton," She fumbled with her hanky. "Don't you think it's a bit soon? We've only known each other a few weeks."

  "I knew the first time I saw you, Pris. Don't you feel anything for me?"

  Yes, yes, yes!

  "I… I like you." Why be dishonest? She was crazy about him. But she wasn't ready yet. The fear had not gone. "I like you very much, Braxton, but I still don't want to marry. Anyone."

  He moved to sit beside her, taking her hands. "Why, Priscilla? Let's work through this problem. If you'd just tell me what you have against marriage, I'm sure we can find a solution."

  The mere thought of discussing the marriage bed with him caused strange tingles in her belly. "I can't do that, Braxton. It's too… too personal."

  He smiled. "Ah. It has to do with sex, doesn't it?"

  "Braxton, your language," she scolded, the ruddiness in her cheeks deepening.

  "Oh, honey, I love how proper and bashful you are. You're a good, honorable woman. But facts are facts. You didn't like being bedded by your Robert, did you?"

  She averted her face. "That's none of your concern."

  "The fact that I want to marry you, and I believe you want me too, makes it my concern. Just answer me."

  She sat there mulling it over for several moments. He was right. She could never have children without marriage and the marriage bed. Could he be right? Would it be different with him? Certainly, she enjoyed his kisses more than she had Robert's. But did it prove anything? "I don't know what to say to you, Braxton."

  "Just answer my question. You didn't like Robert's lovemaking, did you?"

  "No." She glowered at him for pushing the issue. "I hated it. How anyone could call it lovemaking is beyond me."

  She slapped a hand over her mouth, shocked by her vulgarity.

  Braxton gave her a tender smile and slid an arm around her shoulders, scooting closer. "I suspected as much. It's not the same with every man, P
riscilla. Some men have more experience than others. Some men simply care more that their partners enjoy the act. I care, sweetheart. I'd do everything in my power to make it pleasant for you. More than pleasant, I'd make it sheer heaven."

  "Is… Is that possible? I've never heard a woman talk about… well, you know. How many women have you been with that you know so much?"

  "Enough, Priscilla. I'm no innocent, I've never tried to hide that. But I do know some women enjoy sex a very great deal, with the right man."

  She glanced down at her hands held tenderly in his. Could she believe him? Should she believe? What if she didn't like it? She'd be married with no way out.

  "I'll tell you what, honey," he said. "After one month of marriage, if you still aren't happy, we'll get an annulment."

  "If the marriage were consummated, we wouldn't be able to have it annulled, Braxton."

  He smiled. "I'll swear to a judge I never touched you."

  "That would be a lie."

  "See how far I'm willing to go to have you?"

  She rose and went to the window. "Let me think about it, please."

  "All right," he said, coming to her side. "You can think it over, and meanwhile, we'll look for a house for you to move into. Alone."

  She turned and smiled at him. "All right. When?"

  "Why not tomorrow?"

  "Very well."

  Braxton left a few minutes later.

  Feeling troubled and confused, Priscilla walked through her house, remembering the past and trying to find answers. She played with Felicity and fed her. On a whim, she lit a lantern on the kitchen table, knowing she'd need it when she returned, put on her hat and gloves and let herself out of the house.

  Thalia answered the door immediately. "Priscilla, I didn't expect to see you again tonight."

  "I know." She stepped into the house and Thalia took her hat and gloves. "I need to talk to you."

  "What about?"

  They sat in chairs facing each other in front of the unlit stove.

  "Thalia, please forgive me if this should shock or offend you, but I must know if you have any knowledge about lovemaking."

  The woman reared back her head, her eyes wide. "Why, Priscilla, I'm unmarried. Why would you think I know about such a thing?"

  Priscilla shrugged. "I knew it was a bad idea to come here, but I'm desperate. Braxton wants me to marry him, but I didn't like… being with Robert that way, you know? How can I be sure I'll enjoy marriage with Braxton?"

  "Oh, Priscilla. You love Braxton. I've seen it in the way you look at him. I've seen his love for you in how he treats you. The two of you were made for each other."

  "Maybe. Does he really treat me that special?"

  "Yes. You know how I've talked about my parents and how much they loved each other. My father treated Mama the same way Braxton does you."

  "Oh, Thalia." Priscilla felt something in her chest ease. She had known Thalia's parents, and the love they shared was obvious. She'd never seen them kiss or truly embrace, but their feelings for each other showed in their faces and the way they acted toward each other.

  "Besides," Thalia continued. "When my mother told me about a woman's monthlies and why we had to endure them, she also explained how babies were made and born. She made it sound beautiful, Pris. That's why I want to be married. I know she enjoyed the marriage act. She didn't have to tell me. I could see it in her eyes."

  An immense sense of peace came over Priscilla. "Thank you for sharing that with me." She stood, pulled her friend to her feet and hugged her.

  "Have I helped you?" Thalia asked, hugging he back.

  "Oh, yes. I've made up my mind." She grinned. "I'm going to marry Braxton. He's taking me to look at houses on the hill tomorrow. I'll tell him then."

  Chapter Fifteen

  For the first time in weeks, joy filled Priscilla's heart instead of grief. She was going to marry Braxton. Her fears about the marriage bed had faded. As she stepped onto the porch, something crunched under her foot. It was difficult to see with night coming on but there was enough light to see what looked like rice on the wooden porch. She bent, picked up a few granules which crumbled in her hand. How had cookie crumbs gotten onto her porch?

  She brushed the crumbs from her hands, inserted her key, and turned it. Nothing happened. She tried it the other way, the wrong way for unlocking it, and with a click, the door opened.

  Her door had not been locked.

  She always locked her door since losing her father and Robert. At a gentle push, the door swung open. The first thing she saw were broken plates on the floor, visible in the moonlight shining through the open door, then what looked like flour. Canned goods, sacks of beans and broken bottles of vegetables she'd canned last year lay everywhere. The cake plate that had held her cookies lay broken amidst the mess.

  Priscilla slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Someone had come into her home and torn it apart.

  Afraid to go farther, she slipped out the door and ran to the jail, her heart thudding with fear from being out in the night after what she'd found at her home. She burst inside the marshal's office like a tornado in lavender calico.

  Braxton jumped up from a chair. "Priscilla! What is it? You're as pale as fresh cream."

  "My house," she said. "Someone… it's been torn apart."

  "Whoa." Braxton drew her into his arms, calming her with soft words whispered in her ear. "It's okay, sweetheart. I'll take care of it. It's okay."

  "Exactly what happened, Pris?" Etta asked standing, her hands on her gun-belt as if ready to draw.

  "I-I came home and went to unlock the door, only it wouldn't work. Then I noticed crumbs on the porch. The door wasn't locked." She peered up into Braxton's worried eyes. "You know I always lock the door."

  "You didn't go inside, did you?" he asked.

  "Yes, but barely, just enough to see foodstuff scattered on the floor. My dishes… they broke my dishes."

  "All right. I want you to stay here while Etta and I check this out. Will you do that?"

  "Can't I go with you?"

  "If someone is inside, you could be in danger." Braxton checked his Walker-Colt. "I need you here where I know you're safe, darlin'. I can't do my job effectively worrying about you."

  What he said made sense. "Very well. Can I wait at Thalia's?"

  "Are you sure she's home?"

  "Yes, I'd been there before I went home."

  "Okay. Come on, I'll make sure you get there safe."

  He took her hand and drew her outside. Etta followed.

  "I'll go straight there, Brax."

  "All right."

  When they reached Thalia's house and she'd answered the door, Braxton kissed Priscilla again. "Keep her safe, Thalia."

  "I'll do my best."

  He was gone in a flash. Priscilla called after him, "You'll be careful, won't you?"

  A wave of his hand was the only answer she received.

  "Priscilla, what happened?" Thalia guided her into the house.

  In a few short words, Priscilla explained.

  "Why, that's awful. How terrifying. Do you think whoever broke in was still there?"

  "I have no idea." She went to the window facing her house. "I just hope he'll be safe."

  She went on to explain to Thalia all that had been going on, about the robbery, the two outlaws harassing Braxton, and Etta returning the stolen cash to the bank.

  Braxton returned twenty minutes later. "Etta is searching for tracks around the house."

  Thalia excused herself to make tea, leaving Priscilla and Braxton alone.

  "But what did you find?" she asked. "Do you know who broke into my home?"

  He slipped his arm around her and led her to the settee. "I have a strong suspicion it was Irish O'Malley and Logan Cash," he said. "Looking for the saddlebag, no doubt. They broke a back window to get in then left by the kitchen door."

  After seating Priscilla, he sat beside her.

  "Those awful men," Priscilla
spat. "I wish you and Etta could find and arrest them."

  "I do too, honey." He kissed her forehead. "We'll get them eventually."

  She glared at him. "Yes, but how many more houses will they break into in the meantime? How many more people will they hurt?"

  Thalia chose that moment to return. She came to a dead halt in the doorway, the tray in her hands teetering. "Someone's been killed?"

  "No, no." Braxton jumped up and rescued the tray. "No one's died. I suspect whoever broke in was looking for…" He paused, glancing at Priscilla.

  "I explained it to Thalia."

  "Good. I think the outlaws were looking for the stolen money Etta returned to the bank."

  Priscilla urged Thalia to sit down and patted her hands to reassure her.

  "Someone needs to tell them what Etta did so they'll stop searching for it here," Thalia said.

  "I did tell them." Braxton set the tray with sandwiches and cakes on a low table. "They didn't believe me. I'll likely find my place torn apart too. Maybe Etta's as well since they seem to think, if I'm not lying about giving it to her, she must have stolen it."

  "Surely, that's not true," Thalia said.

  Priscilla poured the tea and put a sandwich and one of the cakes on Braxton's plate. He picked up the white frosted confection and bit into it. "Um. Good. I don't know what to think about Irish and Logan's claims. They showed me wanted posters for me and for them."

  "For you?" Thalia's gaze leaped from him to Priscilla.

  She nodded. "They probably paid a printer to make them up. They can't be real."

  "I certainly hope so." Thalia set aside her tea. "What are you going to do now?"

  Finished, Braxton added his dishes to the tray. "I'd like Priscilla to stay here tonight if it's okay with you. I don't think she should be alone there tonight. Besides, her bedroom is a mess."

  "Oh, yes," Thalia said. "Of course, she must stay here. I have a guest room. I'd be thrilled to have her."

  Braxton stood. "I'm relieved to hear it. Thank you for the tea, Thalia."

  Priscilla rose also. "What are you going to do? Are you going to look for those scoundrels?"

  "It's too dark now to track them. We'll do it first thing in the morning." Going to Priscilla, he kissed her cheek. "Sorry about the plans to look at houses but I think we'd best put it off."