by Marie Piper
Haven made herself look at her father, who looked back at her with ice cold eyes. “Young lady, you and I are going to have a long talk as soon as we straighten this all out.”
“I expect we are, sir.” She wondered if it’d be possible to duck under her covers and hide for the next twenty years. Instead, she went to the stove and the coffee that was bubbling, ready to be served. She brought cups to the table, and the men each took one.
Doc focused the attention of the group back to the bigger matter. “But Philip would easily be able to find out if Matthew was still here, and where to find him. He’s the deputy, it’s not like he’s hiding. And if he got close enough to Matthew to punch out Theo McKenzie in the middle of town and a crowd of men, more than a couple of whom would remember him, then what in the hell would he need Porter for?”
Haven poured coffee into Doc’s cup, and then Matthew’s. When she reached Braxton’s cup, she realized the room had fallen silent. Four pairs of eyes watched her every move.
Matthew stared at her with an expression so scared she felt a chill in her bones. “For you,” he said.
“Me?” Haven was confused. “I’m nobody. Why would your pa want me?”
Braxton seemed to catch Matthew’s train of thought. “When did you first meet Porter?”
“The first day he got here. I ran into him on the street, and he nearly knocked me over. It was an accident, but he introduced himself. I thought he was charming.”
“Son of a bitch,” Braxton said as he set down his coffee. “That was no accident. Porter came to Cricket Bend with a reason right from the start. You’re the reason, Haven. Porter needed to get to you.”
“But why?” Luke asked, confused.
Braxton turned his face to the imposing Sheriff. “Probably so Philip Frank could get his revenge on the man who drove him out of town. The man he probably figures took his son from him. He’s come back to get revenge on you, Luke. And I’d bet my life he plans to use Haven to get it.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Haven
Two more days passed, and Walker—now understood to be Philip Frank—still hadn’t raised his ugly head. Word spread fast to be on the lookout. People who remembered Philip Frank filled the streets with gossip of terrible interactions. Hill Hilton, Ed Dean, and Rip Peters took to wearing their sidearms again as they hung around the saloon, their own little army.
With the knowledge that Hank Porter had likely been involved in whatever plans were in motion, Haven found herself and Callie watched every day by armed men. Although she was thankful for each and every one of them, being surrounded all the time made her feel stir crazy. She spent one whole day in her house, guarded by Braxton and Matthew, and the other at the clinic with Doc armed by her side.
Like the rest of town, she wanted to jump out of her skin.
She’d have given anything to be able to sneak away with Matthew and lose herself in his arms for a while. Her sweet fiancé’s eyes had narrowed as soon as he’d learned his father was still alive, and he hadn’t relaxed since. She wanted to distract him as badly as she wanted a diversion, but it wasn’t going to happen. Everyone was watched too closely.
“I think I’ll duck upstairs for a nap before dinner,” she told Doc after an entire day of doing busy work around the clinic. “I’ve washed the counters three times already, and I’ve alphabetized the medicines. Maybe sleep will make the time go by.”
Despite her fear, and due to several sleepless nights, she passed out the minute her head touched the pillow.
When she woke, she was riding on a fast moving horse, held across the lap of a strong man. At first, she thought it was a dream. She took stock of her situation as things gradually became clearer, even though her head ached, and she felt like she’d been asleep so long her limbs wouldn’t work. Rope tied her hands and feet, and there was a gag in her mouth. Her head leaned against the man’s brown jacket, but she would have known the brocade of the vest beneath the jacket, and the smell of whiskey anywhere.
Hank Porter had come back.
Haven remembered going to Doc’s room to sleep. Doc. Haven hoped against hope he was all right, and that Hank hadn’t killed him to get to her.
Why he’d needed to get to her was a mystery, as was where they were going so fast. If he had been working for Walker, why had he run away from town with so little warning, and with so much fear in his eyes, only to return?
Whatever Hank had planned, Haven couldn't escape it. She stayed still against him, letting him continue going wherever he was headed.
Haven thought of Matthew first and foremost, and how he’d finally told her he loved her. What they had was too precious to lose. Haven thought of her father, of Doc and Callie, and even Jack Braxton. She thought of Hill, and the boys, and Jasper, and Lizzie, and her new baby girls. Haven thought of her mother. Lucy Anderson could have been set on fire, and she’d still have fought until her dying breath to return to her family.
Haven would not give up. She would fight, and she would get home.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Matthew
“Good God Almighty!”
Luke leapt from his chair at the sight of Doc stumbling out from the door of the clinic. The older man grabbed for a post, but missed and nearly fell down his own stairs. He righted himself, coughing hard.
Matthew quickly followed Luke across the street.
Doc’s face was pale. Though he wobbled, he gestured furiously, trying to speak through his coughing.
“You all right?” Matthew thought the man was having a heart attack and looked around. Besides Doc, only Haven had enough experience with medicine to be of much help. She should have been around. She’d been working at the clinic the whole day long.
Doc pointed to the clinic. “She’s gone. She went upstairs and—”
He fell to the ground, crumpling into a ball, retching with coughs. Luke went down with him and kept Doc’s face from falling into the dirt. “Cornelius, hang on.”
Matthew darted for the clinic and took the stairs two at a time up to Doc’s living quarters. The bedspread was rumpled, yet there was no sign of Haven.
He dove for the open window and peered out.
The plains stretched large ahead of him. He’d never felt their full enormity before.
Someone had taken her, and she was somewhere out there. Matthew didn’t know who had whisked her away, or which direction they’d gone, but if he waited too long, it’d be impossible to find her.
Matthew returned to Doc and Luke. A crowd of folks surrounded them, drawn to the scene. Luke had managed to get Doc seated on the steps. “Chloroform,” Doc managed as Matthew approached.
“Who did this?” Luke asked.
“I don’t know.” Doc was coming back to his senses, and he could speak more easily. “I was going over the books to pass the time, and then I woke up on the floor. I went upstairs and she was gone. I was supposed to look out for her. I’m sorry, Luke.”
“I ain’t mad at you,” Luke replied, patting Doc’s back with a steely look on his face. “But there’s one or two men I’m going to beat the tar out of for this.”
Callie pushed her way through the gathering crowd. “What’s going on?”
“Haven’s gone,” Luke replied.
Overhearing, the crowd all began to mumble and chatter. Matthew could feel the nerves of the town getting wound tighter. There’d be panic if they didn’t get Haven back, and fast.
Callie’s face paled, her hands going to her mouth for a moment.
“Sheriff?”
Hill Hilton stepped through the people in the crowd, looking sheepish.
“This better be good, Hill,” Luke replied.
“I don’t know if this is important, but I saw Porter a little while ago.”
“Where?” Matthew felt heat rise in his body.
“Out back of the saloon. I went to answer the call of nature, and I only saw him for a second, but I’d swear on my life i
t was him. Thought it was odd, being as he took off so fast and all.”
“How long ago?”
“Couple hours,” Hill replied. “I figured it wasn't my business.”
Callie shoved him. “Dammit, Hill. You should have told me.”
Matthew held up a hand to stop Hill from responding, trying to wrap his head around everything. If Hank had taken Haven, they had a far better chance of rescuing her than if she’d been taken by Philip Frank. Hank had tried to warn Haven of bad things coming. She said herself he wanted her to run away with him. Yet a man scared could be even more volatile than a known killer, if pushed the wrong way. Haven wouldn’t go gentle, Matthew was sure of it. Damn her stubborn nature. Normally, he admired it, but this time around it might get her killed.
Braxton came from behind the clinic. “There’s tracks. Looks like one horse.”
“Go.” Doc waved them away. “I’ll be all right.”
Callie ducked down to Doc’s side. “I’ll see to him. You boys bring her back, you hear me? And one of you, I don’t care who, give Hank a good hard punch for me if he’s behind this.”
“Yes ma’am,” Luke replied.
“With pleasure,” Matthew answered.
Matthew and Luke followed Braxton to the horses. Luke kept his eyes to the dirt. “He tied his horse here and took off south. Even if he’s running full speed, he hasn’t had that much time.”
***
Haven
Haven played unconscious but sneaked peeks until Hank rode up to a familiar place. The abandoned remains of the Carnes family’s original barn was a local legend, said to be haunted in the fall and home to transients the rest of the year. Haven knew it well, and she knew Matthew did too. One of the holes in the shabby roof was entirely their fault, in fact.
“I know you’re awake,” Hank said as he stopped the horse at the door of the barn.
She opened her eyes, unable to say anything with the gag in her mouth.
Hank untied the loop of rope around her ankles and helped her slide off the side of the saddle, down to the ground.
The moment her feet touched dirt, she tried to run. She knew where they were. If she could just get to the trees, she could lose him and be at Rip Peters’ place before long. Rip had loads of horses, and she could use one to get to town. It seemed as good a plan as any, except as soon as she started to run, her legs, shaky from the ride, gave out and she stumbled. One moment of slowing down was all it took for Hank to catch her with a tight grip around the waist and carry her into the barn.
The gag in her mouth prevented her words from being clear, but she hollered and screamed anyway. Once they were inside the barn, he pushed her toward some busted crates and sat her down on them before he removed her gag.
“No point in screaming.” His face was red. “No one’s around but us. Don’t you try to run again either.”
The gag had tasted awful and dried out her mouth. Haven licked her lips before she spoke. “Did you kill Doc?”
“I’m no killer.”
“What in the hell are you doing?”
“I’m saving you.”
“From Philip Frank?”
“From a man called Walker,” Hank answered. “Who is Philip Frank?”
Haven shook her head. “The same man. He’s Matthew’s father. And he’s horrible.”
Thoughts and questions passed across Hank’s eyes. Haven could tell he’d done some drinking, and wasn’t entirely all in his head. He went over to a pile of boxes and began pulling things out. She saw a bedroll, some bottles of liquor, and a small stack of papers. He loaded them into a sack.
“Is this where you’ve been?” His departure had caught everyone’s attention. It was strange to think he’d been so close the whole time. She looked at the barn she hadn’t been in for over ten years. Not much remained, just a few support beams, and a ramshackle roof that looked as if it was held up purely by air and prayers.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Hank said over his shoulder.
“What wasn’t?” A creak from one of the beams made him jump and turn his head, as if something awful could be right behind him. “Hank. Tell me what’s going on. Please.”
He turned to look at her, and she saw the man whose arms she’d fallen into more than once. Haven saw him breaking. Stuck in the battle between the angel on one of his shoulders and the devil on the other, Hank looked torn and scared.
Maybe there was still a part of him that cared for her, even just a little. Maybe she could remind him of it. She softened her tone. “I don’t know what’s happening. I’m scared.”
“You should never have gotten involved with me.”
“I made my own decision,” she replied. “And, if it matters, I don’t regret you. Not really.”
Hank chuckled bitterly. “You might yet. Walker gave me what I always wanted. He gave me a saloon of my own. I thought I could come here, start over, run a business, and live the way I wanted to. All I had to do, my only job, was get to you.”
“I was a job.”
“The very best job I ever had,” he answered. “He said ‘the sheriff’s daughter,’ and I figured you’d be some ugly, foul-tempered young woman, and I’d loathe every minute. Then you turned out to be you, and I…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, and Haven didn’t want him to. If he had real feelings for her, she didn’t want to know. The things she felt for him were already so confusing, she’d rather think of him as just a man who’d been sent to seduce her. Being just plain angry at him was easy.
Haven couldn’t move her hands. They were tightly tied together, and she was barely balanced against the crate behind her back. The knife in her boot was no help as there was no way to reach it. If she could keep him talking, maybe help would come.
“What were you supposed to do with me once you got me?”
“Get you into my bed.” He sounded regretful.
“Well, you nearly succeeded.”
Hank knelt before her. “I was supposed to get you into my bed and get caught. He wanted a scandal big enough to blow up the town.”
“But why?”
“Your father. Walker’s real set on ruining his life. Now, I can live with that. I’m sorry to say your father means nothing to me. But I don’t know what he has in store for you. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a murderer, and I’m not about to become associated with one. Come with me right now, and we’ll get out of here before he comes after you. I’ll keep you safe, Haven. I swear it.”
“I won’t leave Papa, or Matthew.”
“Dammit.” Hank pushed his lips on hers as if he was trying to kiss some sense into her. Haven lost her head just for a second, remembering how sweet kissing him had once felt. Things weren’t the same anymore, though, and his kisses repulsed her. With her hands bound, she brought them to his strong chest and pushed him away.
Hank looked furious, and his hands held her harder as he leaned over her. Haven couldn’t overpower him physically, but maybe she could appeal to him a different way. The words burst from her before she could stop herself. “Help me save my father, Matthew, and everyone else, and I’ll go anywhere you want for as long as you want me.” She hated the promise in her words, but she meant it. To save those she loved, she’d be with him.
“You’re a terrible liar, my love.”
“I’m not lying to you. Anywhere. New Orleans. I will be with you, and we can do whatever you want, whenever you want. I’ll be yours.” Haven stopped pushing against his chest. She had infused her words with as much promise of pleasurable delight as she could muster, and hoped he’d been listening.
Hank moved closer, and she felt his breath on her face. His visage showed her nothing. She couldn’t tell if she’d swayed him at all, or if she was doomed before she started. Perhaps she was going to die in Carnes’ barn that evening. Perhaps Hank's face would be the last one she ever saw.
“You think that’s all I want of you?”
Green eyes. His cursed green eye
s were so beautiful. Haven swallowed hard.
“And what in the hell do you call this?”
A man stood in the doorway of the barn with a gun in his hand.
Hank bolted upright, and his weight came off Haven. “I call this finishing the job, sir.” Hank practically roared as he roughly rolled Haven over onto her face, her cheek pressing into the crates. Her chest drove her bound hands into the boxes, and she called out in pain and surprise as splinters dug into her skin.
With audible fury and a string of fevered profanities, Hank reached for her skirt. Haven clenched her eyes shut in fear. Hank would have her, one way or another, and she hated him. She’d been trying to appeal to the better part of him, and there wasn't one after all. Everything he’d ever said to her was a lie. Haven thought of Matthew, and the sweetness of his eyes. She could live through this if it meant seeing him again.
“Your job was to get her to come with you of her own free will, not to force yourself on her like a brute. You missed your mark, Porter.”
Hank leaned over Haven, his weight pressing on her.
To her surprise, all she felt was his fingers sliding into her boot. He was going for her knife. “Give me a few minutes,” Hank replied in a mean tone. “I never miss.”
A gunshot rang out.
Hank hit the ground next to Haven with a thud, holding his arm and groaning.
“Neither do I. You think you can trick me, Porter?”
Haven saw a man’s feet walk toward Hank and kick him in the side.
The man took hold of Haven’s arm and pulled her back up to a sitting position.
The years hadn’t been kind. His skin had seen too much of sun and gone leathery. He’d wrinkled a bunch, but she immediately remembered the scowling eyes of Philip Frank.
“You were just a little thing in pigtails. I bet you don’t remember me.”
“I remember you chasing me with your belt, Mr. Frank.”
