Desperate Hearts

by Rosanne Bittner

  ***

  Bess went upstairs to find a naked Andrea Tate shaking and crying in the bathing room off of Alan Radcliffe’s bedroom. Blood ran down the inside of her legs and dripped onto the tile floor. Bess well knew the horror the girl was suffering. She hurriedly found her some clean towels. “Let me help you, Miss Tate.”

  “Don’t look at me!”

  “It’s all right. I’ve been through this before.”

  “Before? What does that mean? Does Mr. Radcliffe make a habit of bringing young virgins up here and drugging them and then disgracing them?”

  “I can’t say, ma’am.”

  Andrea angrily washed herself and pulled on her bloomers, stuffing a small towel inside them because she was still bleeding. Bess picked her clothes up from the bedroom floor and laid them out on a large stuffed chair, then began removing the bedding.

  “Stop!” Andrea ordered, with the tone of a rich young woman accustomed to giving orders to maids.

  Bess turned. “Ma’am?”

  “Don’t put that in the laundry. I want it.”

  Bess was surprised at the dark, determined look in the eyes of a young girl who before now Bess had known to be only sweet and innocent and even kind to the servants. This was a different Andrea. The girl walked over to the chair and began dressing. “I’m keeping that sheet for proof.”

  “Proof?”

  “I’m going to the prosecutor and I’m telling him what Alan Radcliffe did to me.” She straightened. “Come cinch my camisole for me.”

  Bess obeyed.

  “I’ll bet that bastard has raped you, too, hasn’t he, Bess?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Andrea whirled. “Don’t you lie to me! He has, hasn’t he?”

  Bess’s eyes teared. “I could lose my job. That might not mean much to somebody like you, but it’s everything to me. Mr. Radcliffe has ways of—”

  “He’s a brute and a rapist! I don’t care if my father does end up broke for what I’m going to do! I’ll hate my father forever for what he allowed Alan Radcliffe to do to me last night! Alan told me he’d make sure my father lost everything if I told, but I don’t care now.” She grasped Bess’s arms. “Help me, Bess. I promise you, it will be worth it. Whatever happens to my father, my mother has a fortune of her own and we’ll be all right. I promise you that if you help me get Alan Radcliffe arrested, you’ll always have a home and a job with me and my mother. You have an old grandmother you help take care of, don’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then we’ll take her in, too, and make sure she gets medical help.”

  “I… How can I believe you?”

  “Look at me, Bess. Look at me! Can’t you see I mean it?”

  Bess took strength in the girl’s determination. “Yes, ma’am, I believe you do.”

  “Tell me, Bess. Has he raped you, too?”

  Bess’s eyes teared as she slowly nodded.

  “More than once, I’ll bet. What happened to Emma Radcliffe? Why isn’t she around anymore?”

  “She ran off.”

  “Why? Did he rape her, too?”

  Bess slowly nodded.

  “And what about Emma’s mother? Everybody is wondering what really happened to her and why Emma ran off.”

  “I… He pushed her down the stairs. I saw it. He told Emma he’d say she did it out of jealousy, that she wanted him for herself, wanted to be sure of Radcliffe money for life.”

  Andrea turned around so Bess could continue lacing her up. “Emma would never hurt her mother. And Alan thinks he’s irresistible to women—that when he rapes them, they like it! He thinks nothing of it. He told me he hadn’t hurt me at all, that all he did was break me in, so when I marry I can show my husband a good time.” She broke into tears. “I was…saving myself. No decent man will want me now.”

  Bess finished lacing up Andrea’s camisole, and the girl stepped into her slips, then raised her arms so Bess could put her dress over her head. Bess pulled it down and began buttoning it for Andrea.

  “Go with me to the prosecutor,” Andrea pleaded. “My mother will support us. I know she will. When she finds out what happened here last night, she’ll divorce my father and she’ll make sure Alan Radcliffe gets what’s coming to him. He thinks I’m just another simpering, frightened young girl who’s worried about what people will think, but I’m not like that. I don’t care what people say! I want Alan Radcliffe to pay for this, and I want people to know what he did to his wife!”

  “They might not believe me,” Bess objected. “I’m just a maid.”

  “I’ll back you up. I’ll save that sheet for evidence. If we could find Emma, I’ll bet she could put the final nail in Alan Radcliffe’s coffin. She must be running scared somewhere. Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”

  Bess swallowed. Could she really trust Andrea Tate? She’d never considered that someone of her class could actually team up with a lowly street girl to go after a man like Alan Radcliffe. The thought of exposing the man’s evils was a pleasant one indeed. “I…I think I might know where.”

  Andrea’s eyes lit up. “Where, Bess? We have to find her! Maybe the prosecutor can have someone go after her and bring her back.”

  Bess looked toward the door. “Wait here. I have to get something from my room.” She hurried out, looking over the railing downstairs to make sure Alan was nowhere around. She ran up the narrow stairs to her attic room, then grabbed the folded newspaper and brought it back to Alan’s room, where Andrea was re-pinning her hair. “Here.” She handed the newspaper to Andrea. “I found this in Emma’s bedroom closet, and when I saw where it was folded to, I thought maybe that’s where she went. I don’t even know for sure why I saved it. I just thought it might be important someday, but I didn’t want Mr. Radcliffe to see it.”

  Andrea took the paper and scanned it. “What am I supposed to be looking for?”

  Bess pointed to a small ad. “Right there. I’m sure Miss Emma meant to take it with her but forgot.”

  Andrea read the ad Bess had pointed out.

  Wives, cooks, laundresses, and help maids wanted. Payment in gold nuggets! Young ladies, widows, women of any age and proficiency are welcome to come to Alder Gulch and get rich! Come to beautiful Montana and enjoy wealth and freedom!

  She looked at Bess. “Do you really think this is where Emma went?”

  “She could have. She’s smart. I think she figured she’d be safe there because Mr. Radcliffe would never think to look for her in a place like that.”

  “So he doesn’t know about this?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Andrea raised her chin. “We’ll take it to the prosecutor and we’ll tell him everything.”

  “But Mr. Radcliffe will beat me to death if I do that!”

  “No he won’t, because you’ll be with us. I promise, Bess, with all my heart, that nothing will happen to you.”

  Bess thought about Prosecutor Hayes’s own promise to protect her if she told him the truth about what had happened to Mary Radcliffe. She thought how wonderful it would be to escape the clutches of Alan Radcliffe, even more wonderful to see the man go to prison. “I…I think Matilda can also testify. She has seen and heard a lot of things, too.”

  “Then I’ll have my mother send for her secretly and we’ll find out what she knows.”

  “She hates Mr. Radcliffe. I know that for certain.”

  Andrea glared at a painting of Alan Radcliffe that hung over the bed. “He’ll not get away with any of this,” she nearly growled through gritted teeth. “I’m not going to become one of his victims. Not me! I told him I’d get him for this, and I will!” She turned to Bess. “You just go on like nothing happened and wait till I send for you. Put that sheet in a laundry bag and save it in a closet somewhere. Promise me, Bess.”

  “I promise.” Bes
s couldn’t help a sudden urge to reach out and hug Andrea. “Thank you. I’d like nothing more than to be out of this house for good.”

  Andrea hugged her in return. “And you will be, Bess. I promise.”

  Twenty-five

  The streets of Alder were packed with miners, business owners, prostitutes, ranchers, wives, and the few children who lived there. The saloons were overflowing with people dancing both inside and outside to fiddles and piano music, and crude tables made out of barrels and boards were set up in the street and covered with all kinds of food, cookies, cakes, pies, and assorted goodies made by the women in town, some even cooked by the prostitutes. The air was filled with the aroma of beef and pork roasting over open fires, and the mood was joyous and excited, because in addition to the planned picnic, the whole town would witness today the marriage of Mitch Brady and Emma Radcliffe.

  Word had spread like wildfire about the wedding, and about the fact that Elizabeth Wainright’s real name was Emma Radcliffe and that she’d come to Alder to get away from an abusive uncle. That was all Mitch wanted anyone to know, and he’d made sure Randy, Len, and Benny said nothing more as they walked around town letting people know about the wedding.

  Sarah helped a nervous Emma put on the only really good dress she’d brought with her, an evening dress in pale yellow. The bodice was cut low and off the shoulders, trimmed with white lace that draped downward to the elbows, and tiny white bows trimmed the upper edging. The upper skirt was made of white lacy tulle draped over an underskirt of yellow silk puffings tied with deeper yellow velvet ribbon.

  Ma Kelly’s parlor was filled with prostitutes who were dressed to the hilt, some of their dresses surprisingly tasteful. They’d all come over to help Emma with her hair and a touch of makeup and were excited to make Mitch Brady’s fiancée as beautiful as possible.

  Emma would have found the entire situation comical if not for the fact that she suspected a good number of these women had slept with her soon-to-be husband. She could tell they were being very careful not to joke about it, but once in a while a comment would slip about the fact that Emma was getting “quite a man, in more ways than one.” Claire McGuinnes lamented over never getting another visit from “that man,” and another younger woman started to reply, when Sarah reminded them to “shut up.”

  “He’s marrying now, and that’s that, and I’m happy for him. The man is truly in love, and just look at Emma, here. Isn’t she the most beautiful young lady who ever stepped foot in Alder?”

  They all gushed over the results of their primping when Emma rose and turned in a circle for them. “How do I look?”

  “Lord, girl, Mitch will carry you off so fast your head will spin,” one of the women joked.

  They all howled in laughter and Emma blushed, but deep inside she couldn’t wait for tonight, to truly be Mrs. Mitch Brady and be able to sleep with Mitch without having to hide it. She intended to please him in every way he wanted, so much so that he’d never need the services of any of these women again. Giving herself to Mitch Brady had been the most pleasurable, erotic, deeply satisfying thing she’d ever done, and he’d taken away all her inhibitions and fears, had turned into beauty the ugliness Alan Radcliffe had instilled in her.

  Soon she would be Emma Brady, Mitch’s wife, and with Mitch Brady to protect her, Alan Radcliffe could never touch her again or bring her harm. What pleased her most was that when she offered to show Mitch the necklace, he’d refused. “I don’t even want to see the thing,” he’d told her. “It’s yours. I never want one dime of any money that might come of it. I’m marrying you, not that damn necklace.”

  “I’ve never seen Mitch look so happy as when he came to me yesterday afternoon, asking me to help you get ready for a wedding today,” Sarah told Emma, interrupting her thoughts. “That man is beside himself.” She shook a finger at Emma. “And don’t try to tell any of us that something besides just a kiss didn’t happen between the two of you yesterday morning,” she teased. “That man left to go see you, and we all know he didn’t come back to his room until very late last night.”

  “And he looked damn happy,” Hildy added. “When he said he was marrying you today, we had a pretty good idea what went on over here.”

  Emma blushed, realizing there was no pulling the wool over the eyes of these women. She covered her face with her hands. “Don’t forget that I am supposed to teach here. If word gets out—”

  The room erupted in shrieks of laughter.

  “We’ll never tell,” Sarah told her.

  “Do you think we don’t know how Mitch can talk a woman under the covers?” Hildy joked.

  “Hell, with a build like that and that gorgeous face and those damnable blue eyes, he doesn’t have to do any talking!” another put in amid more laughter.

  “Now, now!” Sarah put her hands up to stop all the talk. “The fact remains that after today, you’ll have to forget about Mitch Brady. That man is as honest as a dollar, and once he pledges to Emma here, we all know as sure as the sun rises every day that there won’t be another woman for him.”

  Ma Kelly came into the room then, carrying a mixture of roses and wildflowers. “I managed to find some flowers for you,” she told Emma. “The blacksmith’s wife brought over these roses, and I have some wildflowers growing out by the horse shed behind the house. I trimmed off the rose thorns so you can carry them without harm.” She handed the flowers to Emma.

  “Oh, thank you, Ma.” Emma hugged the woman.

  “Let’s put a couple of those wildflowers in Emma’s hair!” Hildy exclaimed.

  They proceeded to make Emma sit back down while they placed flowers into the mass of curls they’d assembled earlier. Emma took one last look in the mirror, surprised at how perfectly the women had fixed her hair and at the delicate pink of her cheeks and soft rose color on her lips. Considering the way most of these women painted themselves up, she was surprised at how tastefully they’d fixed her own face, following Sarah’s orders that they not make her look “anything less than a true lady.”

  “Thank you all so much,” she told the women.

  “Well, we can’t exactly thank you for taming that man down so fast,” Hildy answered, “but we’re glad he’s happy.”

  Laughter filled the room again, and Emma was amazed at how she now considered some of these women friends. When she first arrived in Alder, she’d not only looked down on them but had even been afraid of some of them.

  “Come on, honey, it’s time!” Hildy told her. “I bet Mitch is already standing on that platform they built for the ceremony.”

  “Good thing Judge Brody happened to still be in town,” another put in. “Who knows where the preacher is right now, he travels so far for his work.”

  “This town could use a school and a church,” Emma put in. “If I’m going to start raising a family here, I intend to see we get both.”

  “Hey, don’t go putting us out of business!” one of them joked.

  “In a mining town?” Sarah answered. “Not likely!”

  They all howled with laughter again as they rushed Emma out the front door, where Randy and Len waited, armed as always.

  “Whooee!” Randy yelped. “Ain’t you the prettiest thing that ever walked. That damn Mitch is the luckiest man in town.”

  Emma barely had time to think. The crowd around her grew as she walked toward the wedding platform. She wanted to laugh at the fact that she was accompanied by prostitutes and vigilantes as she headed toward a platform that not long ago was used for a double hanging. The hanging posts had been removed, and now the platform would be used for a wedding between a man and woman who’d known each other all of three weeks! Only in a place like Alder could something like this happen.

  A few men shot their guns into the air and Randy ordered them to stop.

  “No gunplay today, boys. This is a wedding! We don’t want anybody gettin’ hurt.” />
  The few children in town sat on their fathers’ shoulders so they could see better, and rooftops were lined with more onlookers. They reached the platform and Randy helped Emma up the steps while someone somewhere nearby played the wedding march on a piano. When Emma reached the platform, Mitch was indeed already standing there waiting.

  “Oh, my gawd, look at him!” one of the prostitutes commented.

  “Don’t he clean up just damn fine!” Hildy added with a sigh.

  “Never a more handsome man walked the earth,” Sarah added.

  “His pa might have been a drunken bum, but I’ll bet he was one good-looking man,” someone else added.

  Emma just stared a moment. Mitch stood there in a fine black suit with a white shirt and black string tie, his sandy hair clean and pulled into a short tail at the back of his neck. Today he wore no guns. His tanned face was clean-shaven, and his blue eyes shone with nothing but love and an appreciation of how beautiful she looked. He smiled the smile that turned her heart into a melted mess.

  “I already thought you were beautiful, Emma, but not this beautiful.”

  Emma felt warm from the memory of the hours they’d spent quietly making love at Ma’s place the day before. “And you look…” She shook her head. “You look wonderful.” She forced back tears. “Put an arm around me, will you? I’m a nervous wreck and scared to death!”

  He leaned closer, pulling her against him while the huge crowd whooped and howled.

  “What are you scared of?”

  “I don’t know… Scared that this is too good to be true, I guess. Scared of losing you. Scared someone will come for me.”

  “You already know there isn’t a man alive who can get close to you once you’re mine, Emma Radcliffe. So be happy. Look around you at all these people, and Randy and Len and Benny—they’re all out there keeping watch. Even Hal Wallace and his wife are here all the way from Virginia City. His wife is mad at him for making the breakneck trip to get here in time. David Meeks is here, too—plenty of lawmen and vigilantes.” He leaned down and kissed her lightly, and the crowd went wild. “Let’s get this over with,” Mitch told her. “I can’t wait to spend the whole night with you in my bed.”