Desperate Hearts

by Rosanne Bittner

  Elizabeth closed her eyes in dismay. “I was in such a hurry the day I left that I never thought to check for something like that. My mother had that trunk tagged for travel.”

  Mitch stepped closer again. “Is Elizabeth Wainright your real name?”

  Elizabeth was beginning to see why Mitch Brady was a good lawman. He didn’t miss a clue and was smarter and more insightful than he let on. She looked around, worried someone would hear her, seeing Alan Radcliffe around every corner.

  “Elizabeth, the man who is after you is not here, and if he should happen to come here, he’ll never get near you. Do you believe me?”

  She met Mitch’s steady gaze again. His whole countenance was indeed intimidating. If Alan Radcliffe did come to Alder, he’d have a time going up against someone like Mitch…unless Mitch decided to hand her over, if he ended up believing what Alan told him.

  She put a hand to her head and turned away again. “Can we talk more tomorrow? I mean, do you still want to take me to the picnic and the dance?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then maybe at the picnic we’ll have a chance to sit alone somewhere. I need time to think about this. It’s a long story, and I’m still not sure I should tell you or anyone else.”

  He let out a long sigh. “You can’t keep putting this off, Elizabeth, and I meant what I said. No matter what you’ve done or not done or why you came here, I think you’re beautiful and special and I want to protect you and keep you safe and…I just plain want you for my wife.”

  Mitch Brady’s wife. The words stirred odd desires she’d never thought she would feel, after what Alan Radcliffe did to her.

  “Elizabeth, stop looking away from me.”

  She turned, meeting his intense gaze, those handsome blue eyes that spoke of trust and protection. His next words seemed stunningly foreign coming from a big man who wore guns and grew up with prostitutes and shot men in the back or watched them hang as though it was all in a day’s work.

  “I think for the first time in my life that I’m in love with a woman,” he told her openly. “If a man like me even knows what love is. I’ve wanted a lot of women, bedded a lot of women, but I’ve never been in love, Elizabeth. In a place like Alder, and the kind of job I have, there isn’t much time or opportunity to court someone. Life is rough and people need each other, so don’t be so shocked that I talk about wanting to marry you.”

  His bold honesty was both flattering and confusing…and strangely comforting. But you don’t know! I’m not the innocent you think I am.

  “It’s hard for me to trust those words, Mitch,” she answered. “For a long time before coming here, I only knew lies and deception and cruelty, all from a man I’d known for years, not just three weeks or so, a man whose background and upbringing I knew all about.”

  “You know all about me, too. I’ve already told you everything. There are no secrets in my past, just the hard truth, and that’s all I want from you—the hard truth.”

  Elizabeth stepped farther away. “The hard truth might bring out the lawman in you. As I’ve said, I’ve been reading Thomas Dimsdale’s articles on the vigilantes of Montana. I know they’re a rough bunch.”

  “With outlaws, not with women.”

  “You already said Trudy Wiley should be in jail. How do I know you won’t put me in jail?”

  “Jesus, Elizabeth!” Mitch sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You didn’t try to kill me! You can’t compare yourself to someone like Trudy. How many ways can I say it? I’m not going to harm a hair on your head. I love you, Elizabeth Wainright, or whatever your name is. And as far as the vigilante work, I’d give it all up for you, if you asked me.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Something tells me that what you’re doing runs in your blood. You grew up fighting your way through life and you’re still doing it.”

  “Because my life had no purpose. Now it does!”

  She folded her arms, finally facing him again. “You won’t give up trying to win me over, will you?”

  “No, ma’am. And it’s not easy for a man like me to admit to loving someone. That should tell you something.” Mitch gave her a rather sad smile, and the air hung silent for a moment as they just watched each other. A shot rang out somewhere outside and another distant explosion disrupted the moment. Mitch’s gentle gaze and masculine presence drew her to him. Mitch in turn stepped closer to her. He touched her face so very gently, moved his hand down her arm to take hold of her hand and squeezed it. “Damn it, woman, let me help you.”

  Elizabeth enjoyed the feeling of being totally loved and protected, something she’d not felt for so very long. She lifted his hand and put it to her face again, brushing his palm with her lips. “Do you mean it? You’ll still care about me no matter what I tell you?”

  “You know by now that I don’t dance around my words, Elizabeth. I told you the first day we met that I don’t lie and I don’t leave anything out, but you’re leaving out plenty, and I can’t help you if I don’t know it all.”

  She closed her eyes, still holding his hand to her face. “What if…what if I told you I’m not…not…untouched?”

  He squeezed her hand but didn’t answer right away. “I’m no fool, Elizabeth,” he finally said. “If you think that news shocks me, it doesn’t. It’s been obvious by the way you’ve reacted to any advance I ever made toward you. It wasn’t bashful innocence. It was terror, and it only makes me want to kill the man who touched you, because I damn well know it couldn’t have been something you wanted. And if it wasn’t, then you haven’t been touched at all.”

  Elizabeth collapsed against him. To her, those were the most beautiful words she’d ever heard. Mitch moved his other arm around her and pulled her against him. He moved a thumb under her chin, making her look up at him. “I’ll say it again, Elizabeth. I love you. There’s a reason you ended up here, lady, and I’m it.”

  He leaned closer, and Elizabeth did not resist when his full lips met her mouth in a gentle kiss that made her head spin. To her surprise, she returned the kiss, enjoying the taste of his mouth, the scent of leather and tobacco and the fresh Montana outdoors. He was a man as big as the territory he roamed in search of thieves and murderers and rustlers. The thought of the dangers he faced made her move her arms around his neck and let the kiss linger and deepen. She wanted him right here, where he was safe and sound. The feelings he stirred in her were almost startling. Was she actually falling in love, too?

  Mitch moved both arms around her and lifted her off her feet. She buried her face against his neck. “Part of me wants you in every way, Mitch,” she told him softly, “but I’m scared I’ll lose you afterward, and I’m scared of…”

  Memories. Bad memories. She suddenly wiggled out of his arms and pulled away. She put a hand over her eyes, turning away again. Unwittingly, the words came spilling out then. “It was awful, Mitch. I can’t go through that again. He forced me.”

  “Who? Your stepfather?”

  Elizabeth shivered, unable to face him. “He threatened me with prison, and he has the power and the means to put me there.”

  “For what?”

  “For…for theft…and what he’ll say was murder.”

  Elizabeth heard him mutter a profanity, followed by a deep sigh.

  “And you really think I’d believe that?”

  “I don’t know. You’re a vigilante. They don’t need a lot of reason to hang someone out here.”

  “Not for something someone did fifteen hundred miles away! And I sure as hell wouldn’t believe something like that anyway. For God’s sake, Elizabeth, tell me what’s going on! How many ways can I ask you to let me help you?”

  Elizabeth jerked in a sob. “But what if I…tell you…and you turn on me?” She finally faced him again. “More than anything on this earth I want to trust you, Mitch. I can’t do this by myself. I thought I could, but so
much has happened—”

  Before she finished, he whisked her up into his arms. Just then the back door opened and in walked Ma Kelly. She stopped short, raising her eyebrows.

  “Well now, seems I’ve interrupted something,” she said, setting some packages on the table. “Should I leave again?” She smiled wryly.

  Elizabeth curled up tighter in Mitch’s arms, keeping her face buried against his shoulder.

  “No,” Mitch answered her. “You can stay, but this woman and I have some talking to do. I’m taking her up to her room, and nobody will ever know. Right, Ma?”

  Ma Kelly folded her arms. “You know me better, Mitch Brady, than to think I’d tell a soul. I’ve figured all along that that little gal needs a solid man like you to help her out with whatever she’s needing help with. Go on upstairs. I’ll get rid of that cigarette butt and any other sign that you’re here.” She picked his hat up from where it hung on the corner of his chair, then reached up and put it on his head. “Go on with you, before one of the tenants comes back.”

  “Thanks.” Mitch carried Elizabeth up the back stairs to her room, laid her on the bed, and closed the door.

  Twenty-three

  Mitch removed his weapons and dropped them to the floor. He then sat down on the bed and pulled off his boots.

  “What are you doing?” Elizabeth asked, becoming alarmed.

  “Don’t worry about what I’m doing. Lie down and relax.”

  “Relax? You’re undressing!”

  He grinned as he stood up and took off his leather vest. “I’m only taking off what could get in the way.”

  “In the way of what?” Elizabeth remained sitting and scooted up to lean against the iron rails of her bed.

  Mitch untied his neck scarf and tossed it. “Didn’t I tell you to trust me?”

  Elizabeth nodded.

  “Then lie down like I asked you to do.”

  She just stared at him.

  “Jesus, Elizabeth, I’m not asking you to take your clothes off.” He held out his arms. “Look. I’m still dressed myself. Not another article of clothing is coming off.”

  Elizabeth warily scooted down, remaining on top of the bedcovers. She lay flat on her back, staring up at him.

  Mitch chuckled, moving onto the bed and straddling her in order to get on the other side of her. “For God’s sake, woman, you’re lying there like a corpse.” He moved beside her, forced her to turn facing away from him, then moved his arms around her from behind and put one leg over her skirts. He pulled her close against him, his head above hers on the pillow so that she nestled nicely against his chest. “There. Now talk.”

  She lay there quietly for a moment.

  “Elizabeth, I’m showing you that you don’t have to be afraid of me. I want you to get used to being held without there being anything more to it than someone caring about you. We are going to lie here like this and you’re going to tell me the truth about why you’re here. What’s your real name?”

  “Elizabeth.”

  “No, it isn’t. What’s your real name?”

  She sighed, astonished he could lie on a bed with her without trying to do more. The last time she was on a bed with a man, he’d beaten her first. She had to admit, feeling Mitch’s arms around her almost made her feel like a child in her father’s embrace, something she hadn’t experienced in years. The day her father died was the last day she felt safe. “Emma,” she answered.

  “Emma what?”

  “Radcliffe.”

  He kissed her hair. “I remember something about the Radcliffe Company when I was a little boy, running the streets of New York. Rich family. Same Radcliffes?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what could make you leave all of that?”

  “It’s a long, long story.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Emma thought about the necklace. Did she dare tell him about it? “I’ll tell you right now that I’ll never get any of the Radcliffe money, in case you think marrying me would make you a rich man.”

  “You already know how I feel about that. Wealth means nothing to me. Besides, didn’t I tell you I loved you before you even mentioned any of this?”

  She sighed. “That’s true.”

  “So tell me the story,” he repeated.

  Emma relished the protection of being wrapped into him. Alan Radcliffe could never get to her here. “Back in the 1820s, in England, my grandmother was forced into marriage to a cousin who had distant ties to the royal family,” she answered. “Her family was dependent on the cousin for survival. They had lost their fortune and were living on his estate, so my grandmother married him so her family could continue living comfortably. But my grandmother was so unhappy that she ended up having an affair with a commoner. Her cousin—I guess I should say her husband—found out, and he divorced her, keeping everything of any value except…”

  “Except what?”

  “I’m afraid to tell you. It’s why my mother died.”

  “That means maybe you could die too for possessing something valuable?”

  She hesitated. “I want so bad to trust you, Mitch.”

  “Have I done one thing to cause you not to trust me?”

  “No.”

  “Then keep talking.”

  Emma swallowed. “Her husband let her keep a valuable necklace, a piece of jewelry he’d inherited that was once worn by Princess Caroline of Brunswick, King George the Fourth’s wife. No one is sure how my grandmother’s cousin ended up with the necklace, but he did, and he gave it to my grandmother. The older it gets, the more valuable it becomes. My grandmother never told her lover about it, afraid he’d try to steal it from her, because he turned out to be no good. He never married her and in fact deserted her after learning she was with child…his child. The rest of my grandmother’s family turned her away in humiliation, so she came to America. She worked as a maid and cook for the Radcliffe family. They let her keep her baby and raise her to also be a servant for the family. That baby was my mother. Her name was Mary Benedict—my grandmother’s maiden name.”

  Emma grasped Mitch’s muscled forearm, feeling more comfortable in his embrace. “My grandmother died, but not before telling my mother about the necklace and urging her to keep it and never sell it unless she became so destitute that she had no choice. Eventually one of the Radcliffe sons, John, fell in love with my mother and married her. She was very beautiful.”

  He kissed her hair again. “Seeing you, I can believe that.”

  Emma smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Keep talking.”

  “My mother said people talked at first, a Radcliffe marrying one of the maids and all, but my father and his parents were wonderful, kind people, and since Mary literally grew up in their house, they didn’t really see her as a lowly servant. They loved and respected her, and they approved of the marriage. I am the result of that marriage.”

  “So you stand to inherit the Radcliffe fortune.”

  She closed her eyes. “I suppose, what’s left of it, but after what I’ve been through, I really don’t want any of it. Besides, Alan Radcliffe will make sure I never get a dime of it. Alan was my father’s brother, and we seldom saw him. He’d branched out into his own businesses and was always traveling to Europe and such, so we never really got to know him well, but he was friendly enough to me and my mother when he came for the holidays. Apparently my father told him once about the necklace, because he asked my mother if he could see it. She refused, said she’d rather keep it hidden and not let too many know that it even existed.” She drew even closer to Mitch. “I’ll always remember the flash of dark anger I saw in Alan’s eyes when my mother refused his request. I guess she didn’t notice it, but I did, and from that day on I didn’t like him. But then my father died, and Alan started coming around, at first to console my mother, then to befriend her and p
retend to want to help her because she was his sister-in-law. He seemed to be just as good a man as my father had been, but I suspected different. Still, he was raised the same as my father and his parents were such good people, we really had no reason to believe he wasn’t as good a man as my father was. And my mother seemed so happy that I didn’t want to spoil it for her.

  “Then my paternal grandparents died, and I think my mother felt she needed help handling all that she’d inherited, so she accepted Alan’s offer of marriage. He explained that it would benefit her and me both, because my mother would remain in the Radcliffe family and inherit not only his parents’ fortune, but the extra fortune Alan had built… I should say, the fortune he pretended to have.”

  “Pretended?”

  “Alan turned out to be a heavy gambler. He lost nearly all of his parents’ fortune after they died, and before I left New York he’d lost quite a bit more. He was getting desperate for money, so he began badgering my mother about the necklace. He said, since she was his wife, the necklace belonged to him to do with as he pleased. My mother refused, saying the necklace was to be handed down to me. Things got worse and worse, and Alan began showing his true colors. He began beating my mother, and once I…matured…he began eyeing me in ways I didn’t like. Then one night he came into my bedroom and planted his hand over my mouth before I could scream.”

  Emma curled her knees up closer to her chest. Mitch held her even tighter and kissed her hair. “I hate having to tell you this,” Emma told him in a near whisper.

  “You don’t need to if you don’t want to. I have a pretty damn good idea what happened.”

  Emma gripped his arm tighter. She felt his own tension, knew his anger toward Alan Radcliffe was building. “He…told me I’d better let him have his way, or he’d beat my mother again…and then he’d tell her he didn’t love her anymore because I had been coming to his bed and it was me he loved and wanted—that I was after his fortune and wanted her out of the picture.”