No One's Bride (Escape to the West Book 1)

by Nerys Leigh

  “On my twenty-first birthday I went to see Mr Courtney, to ask him for my money. He said with all my bed and board none of my wages were left, but that I could have something if I...” She wiped one hand across her suddenly burning eyes and swallowed. “If I went to his bed every day for two years. When I told him I wouldn’t, he tried to force himself on me. I’d been stupid, going to him alone, but I was so eager to get my money and start my plans. Mr Rand, the butler, came at that moment and I escaped, but from then on the way Mr Courtney looked at me scared me even more. I knew he was just waiting for his opportunity. I had to get far away from him, but I had no way to get out of the city and no way to get employment anywhere else.

  “Then I found the special insert in the newspaper that had your advertisement in it.”

  She stopped and drew in a shuddering breath. She hadn’t told anyone her whole story before, not even Katherine. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of her past, but growing up in an orphanage and on the streets didn’t exactly make her a lady. And Mr Courtney’s inappropriate attentions had made her feel tainted, even though she’d done nothing to encourage him. Could Adam want someone like her now he knew the truth?

  He shuffled forward until he was sitting at her side. She continued to stare at the ground in front of her, unable to look at him.

  “Amy,” he whispered, touching her arm.

  She slowly raised her eyes to his and in that moment she knew all the dreams she’d had of San Francisco no longer meant anything, and she didn’t mourn them at all. The only future she dreamed of now was with Adam, the man she’d fallen in love with.

  He took her hands, wrapping them in his own. “You are safe with me,” he said, an intensity to his voice. “I will never let anyone hurt you again. And you will always have a home with me, for as long as you want it.”

  They stared at each other, their faces only inches apart. Adam’s gaze flicked to her lips and back up again. Her eyes went to his mouth and saw his neck move as he swallowed. His head tilted towards her.

  Then he stopped, his eyes closed, and he let out a long breath. Leaning forward, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

  “Thank you for telling me,” he murmured, his breath brushing across her skin. “Your trust means a lot.”

  To her disappointment he sat back and let go of her hands. For a moment she’d thought he was going to kiss her, and not just on the forehead.

  “I haven’t been completely honest with you,” he said.

  Her heart rate picked up at his serious expression, and not in the good way it had when his lips made contact with her skin.

  “I was hoping I’d never have to tell you this, that Vernon would change his mind, but you’ve been honest with me and I feel like I owe you the same.” He breathed out a long sigh. “I didn’t take today off from the bank. Yesterday was my last day working there. I lost my job.”

  Amy gasped, her eyes widening. “No! Why?” And then realisation drew an icy finger down her spine. “Was it because of me? Did he fire you because of me?”

  He took her hands again, holding them tight. “No, he fired me because all he cares about is money and wouldn’t know compassion if it bit him on the backside. The Monday after you arrived he called me into his office and told me if you didn’t move out I would no longer have a job there. But it’s all right.”

  How could he be so calm about this? She pulled her hands from his grasp so she could wave them about to emphasize her words. “But, but, I could have moved out. I could have gone to the boarding house. I can still go to the boarding house. I can go to Mr Vernon and explain and tell him I’m moving out and get him to give you your job back and why are you smiling?”

  He looked as though he was trying not to laugh. “Because I’ve never been surer that I did the right thing than I am right now. Vernon can keep his job. The last thing I want is for you to move out. Besides, God brought you to me, remember? If it’s a choice between obeying my Creator and Saviour and obeying my boss, God gets my vote every time.”

  “But...” She’d cost him his job. How could that not bother him? And then a memory came back to her. “I never used to get to see the newspaper.”

  He frowned, confused. “You... what?”

  “I never ever got to see the newspaper, but that day the housekeeper, who usually delivered it to Mrs Courtney, had to deal with an emergency in one of the bedrooms when a bird got inside, and she gave it to me to take. That insert fell out and when I saw what it was I kept it.” At the time she’d thought of it as luck, but could it all have been the Lord’s doing to bring her here?

  Adam was grinning from ear to ear. “Sounds like a miracle to me. That proves it. I’m not worried and you shouldn’t be either.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Maybe you need to drop your Bible for confirmation.”

  “Well, funny you should say that, but the day after Mr Vernon gave me his ultimatum, I was in the church...”

  Chapter 23

  Adam lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn’t see the ceiling in the dark, but he stared anyway.

  Today had been one of the best days of his life, although he’d had at least three of those since Amy arrived. But today... today had been incredible. Spending the whole day in her company, going on his rounds, which were so much more fun to do with her along. The way she’d opened up to him and told him her story. It had been hard to hear how much she’d been through, but that she trusted him enough to share her life with him gave him hope that she would stay if he asked her.

  And that was why he was staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t asked her.

  All during their time at the lake, for the hours they’d talked and relaxed and gone for a stroll, and when Amy nodded off on the blanket and Adam gazed at her face for the entire half hour she slept, he’d thought about asking her. Then as they rode home with the sun sinking in the sky, painting the clouds purple and red and lighting up Amy’s beautiful face, he’d thought about asking her. As they made supper, naturally falling into the comfortable rhythm they’d found together after two weeks of living under the same roof, he’d thought about asking her. And as they relaxed on the settee after the meal, reading, he’d barely got through two pages in an hour because he couldn’t stop thinking about asking her.

  But in all that time, he didn’t once actually ask her to stay. He didn’t even hint at it, apart from mentioning her coming with him on his postal rounds in the future. And he suspected that may have been too subtle for her to get his entire meaning, which had been please, please, please stay with me for the rest of my life and I love you and marry me and have my children and grow old with me and never, ever leave.

  He wanted to bang his head against a wall.

  The problem was, in addition to thinking about asking her to stay he had also been obsessively considering all the ways it could go wrong. Chief amongst those was she didn’t feel the same way about him as he felt about her and that declaring his undying love would scare her away.

  But then again, if he didn’t ask her she’d leave eventually anyway.

  He scrubbed his hands over his face in an attempt to erase his nervous indecision. Why was being in love so hard? He lowered his eyes to the wall that separated his bedroom from hers. Maybe he should just get up, march in there, and tell her he loved her with all his heart.

  It was possibly the worst idea he’d ever had, but that was where he was right now. Instead of making that mistake, he rolled over and groaned into his pillow, pounding his fist into it for extra emphasis. This was ridiculous. He should just ask her and deal with the consequences afterwards.

  But tomorrow. He’d ask her tomorrow.

  Not tomorrow morning though, because Amy was insisting on returning to work and he didn’t want any discussion that would ensue to feel rushed. Or, if he was very lucky, any kissing that would ensue.

  But most definitely tomorrow afternoon, after she got home. That’s when he’d ask her to stay.

  Und
oubtedly then.

  Chapter 24

  Amy moved the brush down Clementine’s flank in one final long stroke and lowered her arm. “Beautiful,” she said, admiring the horse that she couldn’t help thinking of as hers, even though she wasn’t. Yet.

  Clementine turned her head to nudge Amy’s shoulder and Amy laughed. “I can’t keep brushing you forever,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “You’ll lose all your hair.”

  The horse nudged her again.

  “Oh, all right, just a little longer.”

  “Are you spoiling that nag again?” George’s voice called from the other end of the livery.

  “She’s not a nag,” Amy called back as she resumed brushing. “She’s the most beautiful horse in the world.”

  Clementine bobbed her head.

  “And she completely agrees with me.” She smiled, imagining George rolling his eyes.

  “Just don’t neglect your other duties. I’m not paying you for nothing, girl.”

  “This place is spotless and all the horses are fed. I earn my pay and you know it.”

  A grunt was the only response, making Amy smile again. “Don’t listen to him, Clem, he loves you really,” she said, loud enough for George to hear.

  Boots clomped outside the livery. It was late, close to six, and they didn’t usually get customers at this time. Anxiety pinched at Amy’s gut.

  George is here, she reminded herself.

  Being her first day back at work after the attack, he hadn’t left her on her own all day, other than to use the outhouse. And even then he’d made her come outside so she was within shouting distance.

  I’m safe here.

  She put Clementine’s brush down onto the stool and rubbed her hands off on the front of her shirt.

  “Marshal?” George said. “What’s going on?”

  “Amy Watts, where is she?”

  Amy’s heart slammed into her throat at the familiar voice. It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t.

  She shrank back into Clementine’s stall, pressing herself against the back wall, her heart pounding. Sensing her fear, Clem laid her ears back, eyes wide and feet shifting nervously.

  “Who are you?” George demanded.

  “George, is Miss Watts here?” Amy recognised Marshal Cade’s voice.

  She forced herself away from the wall and crept forward, peering around the edge of the stall. From where she stood in the shadows she could see George facing the livery’s front door, arms folded across his chest and feet planted wide. The other men were out of sight, beyond the door.

  “I am Franklin Courtney of New York City and you are harbouring a thief and fugitive from justice,” the man’s voice boomed.

  It was the voice of Amy’s nightmares, a voice she thought she’d escaped by coming almost all the way across the country. A voice she couldn’t hear without remembering that day in his study, her anger turning to fear as he’d grabbed her, his breath hot on her neck, his hands grabbing at her skirts.

  She stepped back, looking around her. They had a view of both front and back doors, but maybe she could escape through a window.

  “Mr Courtney,” Marshal Cade said, “I think it best if you allow me to handle this...”

  “Step aside, man,” Courtney said in the imperious tone he always used with those he felt beneath him. Which was just about everyone.

  “I don’t know who you are,” George said, his voice dripping with warning, “but this is my property and you would do best to stay out of it.”

  “George,” the marshal said, “an arrest warrant has been issued for Miss Watts. Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. If you stand in my way I’ll have to take you in too, and I really don’t want to do that.”

  In the process of carrying the stool to the window at her end of the building, Amy froze at the words ‘arrest warrant’.

  “What could you possibly want to arrest Amy for?” George snapped. “That girl ain’t never done harm to anyone.”

  “She’s a thief,” Courtney said.

  Thief? Anger flared in Amy’s chest, momentarily eclipsing her fear. He was accusing her of theft? She almost marched to the door to tell Courtney what she thought of him.

  “I don’t believe it,” George said.

  “What you believe, Sir, is of no relevance...”

  “George,” Marshal Cade cut in, “is Miss Watts here? The warrant means I can search the property.”

  Amy hurried to the window and placed the stool beneath it. She didn’t want to get George in trouble. She had to get away before they found her, although where to she didn’t know. At the thought of leaving Adam her heart wrenched so hard it caused her physical pain, but what choice did she have now?

  She pushed the window open, wincing when its rusty hinges gave a harsh squeak.

  The argument at the door stopped.

  “She’s in there!” Courtney roared.

  Amy glanced back to see him push George aside and lumber towards her. Rational thought fled. She pushed off the stool and scrambled through the window, feeling a hand grab at her shoe as she slid through the gap. Outside, she landed on the grass and leapt to her feet.

  “Miss Watts!” Marshal Cade shouted.

  He was running from the livery doors towards her. Without any thought as to where she would go, Amy launched herself in the opposite direction.

  “Miss Watts! Stop!”

  She barely heard the marshal over the blood pumping in her ears. Glancing back to see him sprinting after her, she hit something solid, rebounded backwards, and landed in the dirt of the road.

  Deputy Filbert towered above her, his tall, wide form blocking out the sun and barring her way like a brick wall. She scrambled backwards on her elbows and pushed to her feet, turning to run. Marshal Cade stood in her way. He grabbed her arms. Amy pulled away, but his grip clamped tight.

  “No!” she screamed, fighting to break free. “Let me go!”

  “Miss Watts, stop!”

  “I won’t,” she sobbed, pounding against his chest. “I won’t let him take me.”

  Two arms wrapped around her from behind. “Amy, be still.”

  At the sound of George’s voice, she stopped struggling.

  “It’s all right, Lee, I’ve got her.”

  The marshal looked at George, nodded and released his hold on Amy. She twisted round in George’s arms and sobbed against his chest, her words punctuated with tearful gasps. “Don’t... let them... take... me.”

  “It’s all right, girl,” he said, his voice gentle. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  “Marshal Cade, I demand you take Amy into custody at once.”

  She stiffened at the sound of Courtney’s voice and peered around George. Her former employer was jogging towards them, his face red as he gasped for breath from the exertion of trotting the fifty yards or so up the street.

  He leered at her in between pants. “Otherwise, I’ll have to take her back to New York myself.”

  George turned to face him, holding Amy at his back. “If you want her,” he growled, “you’ll have to go through me.”

  Courtney paled, taking a step backward. He swallowed and looked at Marshal Cade. “Marshal...”

  “Mr Courtney,” Cade said, an edge to his voice, “we are capable of dealing with matters of the law here. Justice will be served.”

  Courtney’s eyes darted between him and George. “Yes, well, just see that it is.”

  The marshal turned to Amy. “Miss Watts, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to take you into custody. I have no choice.” To his credit, his expression said it wasn’t what he wanted to do.

  She shook her head, tears rising to her eyes. “No, please, I don’t want to be locked up.”

  “It’s all right, Amy,” George said. “We’ll sort this out. I promise.”

  Her eyes darted around the street. A small crowd had stopped to see what was going on and more were approaching. There was no way out.

  She took a deep breath and let it
out slowly. Then she squared her shoulders, wiped at her eyes with her sleeve, and looked up at George. “Will you tell Adam?”

  “No, girl, I won’t, because I’m staying with you.” He narrowed his eyes at the deputy marshal. “But Deputy Filbert will, won’t you Fred?”

  Fred Filbert looked between him and Cade. “Um...”

  “Go ahead, Fred,” the marshal said.

  Clearly relieved to not have to disobey either of them, the huge deputy jogged off in the direction of the post office.

  Marshall Cade swept a hand in the direction of his office along the street. “Miss Watts, if you please?”

  “‘If you please?’” Courtney mimicked. He stepped towards Amy, reaching for her. “I’ll take her myself...”

  Amy yelped, jerking her arm from his fingers.

  “Get your hands off her!” George stepped between them, raising his fist.

  Courtney stumbled backwards. “Marshal, stop him!”

  George advanced on Courtney, Marshal Cade not making any move to stop him.

  “It’s your duty!” Courtney almost screamed, raising his hands in front of his face.

  “George,” Cade said with a sigh, “leave him be. Think about Miss Watts.”

  George stopped and his head lowered, his shoulders rising and falling as his fist slowly unclenched. Then he turned, walked back to Amy and put his arm around her shoulders, guiding her in the direction of the marshal’s office.

  It was a long walk along most of the town’s main street from the livery to the marshal’s office and it felt to Amy like every resident of Green Hill Creek was out as they stopped to watch the little group pass. Any of the town’s population who didn’t already think she was a hussy would now think she was a criminal. So much for her hopes of making a home here.

  George kept his arm around her protectively, darting frequent threatening glances at Courtney. Amy didn’t look at her former employer at all. Just his voice made her sick to her stomach; his face would give her lasting nightmares.

  It felt like it took forever to reach the single storey brick building that housed the Marshal’s office and local jail and, despite the reason for her being there, Amy was relieved to get inside and away from the curious stares of the townspeople. The room they entered contained two desks, a few chairs and a table against the wall, a cupboard, and a general feeling of mild clutter.