Desperate Hearts

by Rosanne Bittner

  “Let her go, Hugh,” Mitch repeated. “If you want any hope of getting out of here alive, let her go.”

  “Damn it, Sam, you shouldn’t have done it this way!” Hugh yelled at his brother. “It was damn stupid! You never did think with your head on straight!”

  “I got you out of there, didn’t I?” Sam growled, eyeing Mitch steadily.

  “Sure, but you’d better let that woman go if you want to make it to the end of the street!”

  Sam’s breathing quickened. “I got your word you’ll let us ride off?” he asked Mitch.

  Mitch nodded. “My word as sheriff of Alder.”

  A crowd had gathered, a mixture of businessmen, miners, and saloon girls, all waiting with bated breath. The air hung completely silent for a moment. Sam Wiley finally let go of Elizabeth and gave her a shove so hard, she fell forward.

  Mitch immediately dove to the ground to cover Elizabeth as bullets started flying. Women in the crowd screamed and everyone ran for cover. Sam and Hugh Wiley both went down, and three of the other four men ducked for cover. Jake Snyder tried to ride off while shooting back at Randy, Benny, and Len, who came running out of the jail with flames shooting from their gun barrels as they unleashed a round of bullets. Randy ducked and rolled toward Mitch.

  “Here!” He tossed a six-gun to Mitch. Mitch stayed on top of Elizabeth as he took a last shot at Jake Snyder. The man yelled out and fell from his horse.

  By then the crowd had corralled the other three men, who raised their arms and gave themselves up. Snyder lay dead in the street from Mitch’s bullet.

  Len, Benny, and Randy all proceeded to round up the living, including Sam and Hugh, who’d been wounded but not killed. Sam was screaming with the pain of a bullet in his gut. He was dragged to the jail while someone went to get Doc Wilson.

  “Wounded or not, these two will hang tomorrow,” Len shouted.

  Mitch eased off of Elizabeth. She sat up and just stared at him wide-eyed, her face red from being half choked, tears leaving clean lines where they trickled through the dust on her face. Her ears rang from all the gunfire. Mitch scooped her into his arms as he rose and carried her down the middle of the street toward Ma Kelly’s. People stared and mumbled to each other about the new woman in town and how Mitch Brady had risked his life to save her…yet again.

  Elizabeth laid her head on Mitch’s shoulder and sobbed. Mitch held her closer.

  Fourteen

  “Mitch, I’m so sorry!” Ma Kelly apologized as she opened the front door and let Mitch carry Elizabeth inside. “They held me back and grabbed Elizabeth soon as you left. Is she all right?”

  “She will be. She’s just shaken up.” Mitch carried Elizabeth down the hallway and up the back stairs to her room. Ma followed behind, opening the door to Elizabeth’s room so Mitch could lay her on her bed.

  “I’ll get a rag and some cool water,” Ma told Mitch.

  Mitch stopped her. “What about you, Ma? You okay?”

  “Oh, it takes a lot to bring down this old buzzard,” she answered. “I’m all right.” She patted Mitch’s arm. “You tend to that little gal there.”

  Ma left, and Elizabeth rolled away from Mitch, lying on her side. “I hate this town! Why did I come here?”

  Mitch leaned over and gently smoothed back her hair where it had fallen from its pins. “That’s what I’d like to know, Elizabeth. Why did you come here?”

  “I can’t tell you. And right now I don’t know what to do,” she sobbed. “Just go away.”

  Mitch pulled a chair close to the side of the bed. “I’m not going anywhere, and I don’t blame you for hating this town, but there really are some good people here, Elizabeth. All that’s happened—it’s not the usual here—not this bad, I mean. I’m sorry you were introduced to Alder this way.”

  “I came here to be left alone, and all I’ve been is the center of everyone’s attention.” She managed to sit up straighter, wiping at her eyes with shaking fingers. “I’m sorry. I’m acting like a child.”

  “My God, Elizabeth, you have a right to cry. I’m so goddamn sorry about all of this. I should have seen it coming.” He put his head in his hands.

  Elizabeth moved to the edge of the bed, reaching into her pocket to find a handkerchief. “What about you? What about that wound?”

  Mitch looked down at himself, realizing the site of his wound stung like crazy. He saw a spot of blood. “I guess diving to the ground with you opened things up again.”

  “Oh, Mitch, go see Doc Wilson, please!”

  He sighed and leaned back in the chair, running a hand through his hair. “I will soon. I hope you know I didn’t mean it when I said I’d let you die. I would have let Sam Wiley blow a hole right through my belly to get you away from him, if that’s what it took.”

  Elizabeth sniffed and wiped at more tears. “I was hoping you were just bluffing.”

  Mitch wanted to smile at the smeared dirt and tears on her cheeks. Even when she was a mess, she was beautiful. “I feel like an ass. I should have realized Sam might pull something like this. I should have sent a man over here to keep an eye on you and Ma till the hanging was over.”

  Elizabeth looked him over. “Your arm is bleeding.”

  Mitch looked at his right forearm. “Just a scrape from tackling you to the ground. I hope I didn’t hurt you. I’m not exactly a lightweight. You’re lucky I didn’t break something.”

  “My shoulder hurts, but that’s all. It all happened so fast. When you pushed me down and covered me, I thought for sure you’d been shot and killed.”

  Mitch smiled sadly. “Does that mean you would have cared?”

  “Of course I would have cared. You risked your life for me.”

  “Well it wasn’t just me, you know. I had to rely on my men knowing what to do when I tackled you to the ground.”

  “You must really trust them.”

  “In what we do, you have to have men you can trust. The fact remains, none of it would have happened if I’d done my job right. I guess this wound and all the other things that happened distracted me. You distract me. Since you came to town, Elizabeth Wainright, I haven’t been myself.”

  Elizabeth looked at her lap. “Then you need to stop following me around and worrying about me. I’m no one to you, Mitch. Three days ago, you didn’t even know I existed. I chose to come here, and it’s up to me to decide what to do now. It’s not your worry.”

  “It is my worry. And it’s not true that you’re no one to me. There is something special about you that…”

  He trailed off when Ma Kelly returned with a wet cloth and two cups of coffee on a small tray.

  “You two had better get some hot coffee in you.” She set the tray on a table beside the bed and used the cloth to gently wipe Elizabeth’s face. Elizabeth took the cloth from her.

  “I can do it, Ma. I’ll be all right.”

  “You sure? You’ve been through an awful lot in the last three days, little lady.”

  “Believe me, I’ve been through worse.”

  Mitch came alert at the remark. He watched her carefully as he drank some of the coffee while Elizabeth wiped dirt from her face as best she could without a mirror.

  “I really am not one to cry so easily,” she told Mitch. “It’s just that when you picked me up…” She reddened. “It just felt good to lean on someone.” She set the cloth aside. “It doesn’t mean I intend to lean on you or anyone else under normal conditions. And it doesn’t mean I’m a helpless waif.”

  Mitch leaned closer. “I don’t think of you that way one little bit. Whatever brought you here, Elizabeth, it took courage. I admire that. I just wish you would tell me what it is you’re running from—how I can help you.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I can’t. I still don’t know you well enough to completely trust you.” She raised her chin defiantly. “One thing you can
do is teach me how to use that gun. I would have gladly shot Sam Wiley with it earlier if it had been loaded and ready.”

  Mitch grinned. “The day after tomorrow. Let things calm down from the hanging.” He drank some coffee. “And I intend to send a man over here to sit in Ma’s parlor and keep an eye on things until then. With Sam and Hugh both wounded, it’s not likely anything will happen now, but we can’t be any too careful. Hugh Wiley’s wife, Trudy, is more man than woman, and she can be as vengeful as her husband’s brothers. She’s a tough rancher’s wife, who can use a gun and stand up to any man with it. I’ll have to watch out for her the same as any of Wiley’s brothers or ranch hands. I’m just embarrassed that this happened at all. I should have realized they might use you to get what they want.”

  Their gazes held. “Because they think you’re sweet on me, I suppose. It’s a little embarrassing to be talked about that way when no one even really knows me yet. And for heaven’s sake, how can they think such things when we still barely know each other?”

  Mitch noticed a small cut on her lip. He dearly wanted to beat the hell out of Sam Wiley. He leaned back in the chair. “Folks around here are just hungry for gossip and news,” he answered. “A pretty young girl with a mysterious past and no escort comes to town…not just in an ordinary way, but the victim of a stagecoach robbery, riding into town with a vigilante, the extra horses carrying two dead bodies… All this has made you the center of attention, and because you’re young and beautiful and unattached, you’re a woman wanted by practically every man in town, most of them still trying to figure out if you’re a lady or…something less than a lady.”

  Elizabeth pushed back a strand of hair. “And what do you think I am?”

  “You already know what I think.”

  “Well, you might think I’m a proper lady, but I’m still trying to decide if you’re a proper gentleman,” she answered. “Other than Ma Kelly, I’ve reasoned that your only female friends are not ladies, and I’ve seen how rough and unfeeling you can be.”

  Mitch shrugged. “It’s pretty hard to find female friends out here who are ladies. A man doesn’t have a whole lot of choice. And as far as being rough and unfeeling, I grew up having to be that way.” Damn if this young woman didn’t have a way of making him open up about himself.

  “How did you end up out here?” she asked.

  Mitch shifted in his chair. “I drifted south, fought in the war for a while, then headed west just to see what it was like. I ended up defending a few people, wound up in a gunfight, and got named the local lawman without even saying I wanted to do it. I rode with vigilantes for a while in an attempt to end a range war and cattle rustling, and now here I am, just doing my job.” He looked her over. “I was really worried you’d get hurt bad out there, and it would have been my fault. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t need to promise me anything. I’m not your responsibility, Mitch. You shouldn’t let it get so personal, if it means endangering yourself.”

  Mitch rose and walked to the door. “I don’t have any choice. Feelings have a way of shoving themselves unwanted into a person.” He studied her lovely green eyes and saw the frightened girl behind them. “I’m real sorry about what happened today.”

  She looked away. “Thank you.” She folded her arms, appearing nervous and embarrassed. “Please go see Doc Wilson. I have to admit that I’m not sure what I would have done if you were killed today. I guess I would have moved on to another town.”

  “Does that mean you’re definitely staying? You said you hated it here.”

  She faced him. “You have to teach me how to use that gun, don’t you? I guess that’s reason enough to stay for now. Besides, I really do think I could make my way here by teaching and writing. What those men did isn’t the fault of the rest of the town. I at least have a friend in Ma Kelly…and you, I guess.”

  They stood there frozen in the moment, both wanting to say things it was too soon to say.

  “I…it’s just difficult for me to trust anyone, Mitch, let alone someone I’ve known such a short time. After my father died, my mother turned to someone she thought she could trust, someone she’d known for years, and it ended in tragedy.”

  Mitch frowned. “Elizabeth, whatever happened to your mother shouldn’t mean you have to live the rest of your life all alone, never trusting anyone and never asking for help.”

  She held his gaze. “Isn’t that what you’ve done most of your life?”

  Mitch put his hat back on, smiling softly. “You’ve got me there.” He nodded to her. “Get some rest. Someone will be here tonight and tomorrow to keep watch until the hanging is over.” He hesitated. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m sure. I guess it’s kind of like with you…I’ve been through some things that toughened me up.”

  He ached to hold her. “I wish you’d share those things with me, Elizabeth.”

  She turned away. “You’d better go. It doesn’t look good, you being alone with me here in my room. Heaven knows we’re both providing food enough for gossip. We don’t need to add fuel to the fire.”

  “Sure.” Mitch forced himself to turn and go out the door. It was the hardest thing he’d done in years.

  Fifteen

  Elizabeth sat in Ma Kelly’s parlor reading The Mill on the Floss, a strangely fascinating story of a young girl’s survival over poverty and her confused love life. It was one of several books Ma kept on a shelf against the wall for her patrons’ entertainment, and Elizabeth relished the distraction from her own woes and the perils of her own predicament.

  Ma’s three other boarders, all men, had gone out to watch the hanging. Elizabeth didn’t know much about them, other than one intended to leave soon and go looking for gold. He roomed with a drifter traveling the West, and one was waiting for supplies to arrive because he meant to open a hardware store. The gold seeker and hardware-store owner both had wives who would follow as soon as they determined if they were going to stay in Alder.

  She laid the book in her lap, thinking how she didn’t care much one way or the other about the boarders, or about any of the people outside, except for one…Mitch Brady. He was out there somewhere in the streets handling things, his life always at risk simply because he was a lawman. She hardly knew what to make of a man who seemed such a contrast of good and bad, caring and cold. Could he turn on her the way her stepfather had turned on her mother? Was he like all other men, wanting only one thing from a woman? Was he the type to marry just to be able to possess anything of value that woman owned?

  Randy Olson walked past the window, stopping to peer inside for a moment to make sure Elizabeth was still sitting unscathed and unthreatened in a rocker beside the fireplace. Elizabeth looked at him and smiled. Randy nodded and walked to stand beside the front door.

  She’d also read bits and pieces from The Vigilantes of Montana, written by an Englishman who was living in Virginia City and had made detailed observations of life in the West. Some of what she’d read seemed a stark contrast to the caring side she’d seen in Mitch, and even in Randy and the other men who worked with him. Young Randy was affable and good-looking and seemed trustworthy.

  But it was Mitch who fascinated her the most. From the first day they met, the man had been either rescuing or defending her, risking his life more than once to do so. It seemed such a strange way to meet a person, and she couldn’t help wondering if the conditions under which they met were what had attracted her to him and made her want to be near him—because he made her feel safe. She hadn’t felt safe for a long, long time, and the conditions under which she’d left New York made her wary of trusting a man to help her now, especially one who could be violent. She’d had enough of violence.

  She heard singing then—a hymn! She set her book aside. “Ma, come here,” she yelled down the hall to the kitchen.

  Old Ma Kelly came down the h
allway, wiping her hands on her apron. “What is it?”

  “Singing! I think the people out there are actually singing a hymn. It just seems so strange, to hear hymns in such a wild, lawless town.”

  Ma Kelly smiled with a bit of sadness in her eyes. “They always sing hymns before a hanging,” she told Elizabeth. The two women walked to the door and Ma Kelly opened it and began humming. Randy turned and put his arm out. “Best if you stayed inside,” he told Elizabeth. “Them’s Mitch’s orders.”

  “I was just surprised to hear them singing a hymn.”

  Randy shrugged. “That always happens at a formal hanging. They ask each man if he has anything to say or wants to pray and make things right with the Almighty. Then the whole crowd sings a couple of hymns for the men about to die.”

  Elizabeth shivered at the sight of men standing on the scaffold down at the end of the street. She was glad it was far enough away that she couldn’t see their eyes. She wondered how it felt to stand on a scaffold staring at a noose and knowing for certain that in the next minute you would be dead. The entire hanging ceremony seemed ludicrous.

  “Where is Mitch?” she asked Randy.

  “Oh, he’d be up close to oversee it all. Doc Wilson will be there to verify the men are dead after the hanging. One has to hope the nooses are tied just right. The guy who prepared them claims he’s done it before. It’s not always easy to find a proper hangman. There ain’t a whole lot of them around.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “What happens if the noose isn’t tied just right?”

  Randy glanced at her, shaking his head. “You don’t want to know.” He looked down the street. “Let’s just say it ain’t a pleasant way to die, if there is a pleasant way.”

  “They aren’t hanging Sam Wiley, too, are they? He didn’t kill anyone.”

  “No, ma’am. Mitch wanted him to hang for what he done to you, but you’re right. He didn’t kill anybody. He’s layin’ back at the jail bad wounded. If he lives, Mitch will take him to Virginia City, where a judge will decide how much jail time he ought to spend for kidnappin’ and for tryin’ to spring his murderin’ brother from jail and for shootin’ at the law. I expect he’ll spend some time in prison, probably farther east. There ain’t much out here yet in the way of real, secure prisons.”