Mitch closed his eyes, glad that Doc Wilson’s tonic was finally taking effect. “Beats me,” he answered. He just then realized that Emma hadn’t even asked about the necklace. She was probably more relieved to know Alan Radcliffe was dead than worried about what had happened to it.
Thirty-six
Ten more days passed, and Mitch spent every hour nursing Emma, feeding her, helping her to the privy out back, carrying the water, cooking, bathing her, washing her hair, putting creams on her face and body, helping her change into clean nightgowns. She finally had to order him to let her dress and stay out of bed for the day.
“And shouldn’t you be out there patrolling the streets or something?” she asked. Her voice was back but still hoarse.
“You trying to get rid of me, woman?”
“No.” They sat at the table drinking coffee. “Never.” Emma smiled at him. “But you have to be tired of this, Mitch.”
“Not when it comes to taking care of you.”
“Well, I’m not a helpless waif, and I want to get back to a normal life—maybe even plan that trip to Virginia City and get started teaching. We need to get on with life, Mitch, and you need to put your guns and badge back on and go out there and do what you do best. There are no threats to me here in Alder anymore. You have to stop treating me like I’m a piece of china.”
“You are, to me.”
“And I love you for that, but I’m also stronger than you give me credit for, and I have an independent streak, like my grandmother, I guess. I want to teach, Mitch, unless and until I become a mother. Then I’ll devote my life to our children, but I intend to do all my own cooking and chores and whatever comes with being a wife out in this country. I can do it.”
Mitch studied her lovingly. “I have no doubt about that.”
“And for right now, I want to get dressed by myself.”
He nodded and rose. “Okay, I will put on my guns and my badge and go out there and see what Len and Randy are up to—no good, I expect. They’re probably both sacked out with Sarah and Hildy and nobody is keeping an eye on things.”
Already dressed, he took his gun belts from where they hung near the door. He’d finished strapping one on when someone knocked at the door.
“Who is it?” Mitch asked.
“It’s Len. I’ve got some New York City man here with me—came in on the morning stage, looking for Emma. Says his name is Cabel Brown from the New York City Police Department.”
Emma gasped. “Mitch! They’ve come for me!” She backed away.
Mitch walked over to her and grasped her arms. “Emma, do you really think one person here would let that happen? Now go put on a robe.”
“Mitch, I know who Cabel Brown is. I remember him from social parties Alan used to have at the mansion. Alan used to bribe men like Cabel Brown. The man arrests people!”
“Emma! This is Montana, and I’m still the law here. Nobody is going to come here and arrest anybody without my say-so. Now put on your robe and sit down at the table. Don’t you be worried or afraid for one second.”
Emma’s heart pounded as she walked to a hook on the wall and took down her robe. She quickly pulled it on, ignoring the pain of her still-healing rib. She walked over to the table, sitting down and folding her arms nervously, glad she’d already washed her face this morning. Mitch had combed out her hair for her and it was pinned back at the sides. She was reasonably presentable but wished she was dressed.
Len rapped on the door again. “Mitch, I already disarmed this guy. He says he’s here with some news and not to arrest anybody.”
Mitch went to the door and opened it. Cabel Brown looked Mitch up and down with obvious surprise. Hesitantly, he stepped inside, looking like a very small man as Mitch towered over him.
“I, uh, I’m not here to cause any trouble.”
Mitch nodded. “That would be wise.”
“You want me to stay?” Len asked.
“No. Thanks for checking him out first and coming here with him.”
“Yeah, well, nobody from New York City is gonna get far in this town anymore, that’s for sure.” Len nodded to Brown. “When you’re done here, you can come back to the sheriff’s office and get your weapon.”
Brown frowned with obvious irritation. “I am a member of the New York City Police Department. I assure you I’m not here to shoot someone. You really have no right—”
“You’re in Montana, mister,” Mitch interrupted. “We have a right to ask whatever we want of strangers, even a policeman from New York. Like Len said, you’ll get your weapon back when we’re finished here.” He turned to Len. “Go ahead. We’re okay here.”
“I see you’re wearing your gun. You gonna get off your lazy ass and get back to work soon?”
Mitch gave him a shove. “I figured I’d just lie around and let you and Randy handle everything.”
Len grinned and tipped his hat to Emma. “You’re lookin’ much better, sweetheart,” he said, then walked off.
Mitch closed the door, coming around to offer Brown a chair. “Sit,” he told him, taking a chair himself.
Brown cleared his throat and removed his black felt hat, looking at Emma. “Hello, Emma.”
Emma nodded. “I certainly never expected to see you of all people here in Alder, Mr. Brown.”
“Well, from what I know, I’m sure you did worry you might see me.”
Emma glanced at Mitch, who kicked Brown’s chair out a little farther. “Sit and say your piece,” he told the man with a warning look. “And don’t be saying anything to alarm my wife. She’s been to hell and back because of Alan Radcliffe, who I’m sure has something to do with why you are here.”
Brown glanced at Emma again. “I assure you, I’m not here to bring anyone any harm.” He sat down, and started to reach into his frock coat.
“Hold it!” Mitch told him.
“It’s just some papers,” Brown told Mitch. “Your thug of a friend already disarmed me, remember?”
“Take the papers out slowly,” Mitch told him. “And if it’s any kind of an arrest warrant, you might as well stop right where you are and head back to New York.”
Brown shook his head. “I’ve heard a lot about you vigilantes.”
“And you probably heard right, which is all the more reason to heed what I say. And don’t refer to Len Gray as a thug. He’s a good man, as good as any man in the police department in New York City.”
Brown slowly removed the papers. “Yes, well, your fellow law officer told me about what happened here ten days ago.” He looked at Emma. “I’m sorry, Emma. Actually, it all might have been prevented if I could have gotten here sooner. Once we learned the truth, we had to get new warrants and permits and such, and by then Alan had a head start on us.”
“A head start?” Mitch asked. “What warrants are you talking about?”
Brown shoved a piece of paper over to Mitch. “This is a warrant for Alan Radcliffe’s arrest, not Emma’s.”
Mitch frowned, looking the paper over. He handed it to Emma. “He’s telling the truth.”
Emma studied it. “The day he…attacked me, he seemed desperate. He seemed to just want an expensive necklace I owned and said he was headed for California.” She glanced at Mitch. “Now we know why.”
“What was he wanted for?” Mitch asked.
“Rape and murder,” said Brown. He frowned with concern. “I’m sorry to talk about these things in front of you, Emma, but it seems the man drugged and raped a young woman who came from a wealthy family. I can’t tell you her name because she doesn’t want too many people to know, but she was very brave about it and told the prosecutor. Her bravery came from one of Alan’s maids, who confessed she’d seen Alan push your mother down those stairs and then…drag you off.”
Emma closed her eyes against the horrible memory. “It must have been Bess who final
ly told you.”
“Yes, well, this young girl’s family promised her a job for life if she’d tell us the truth. She also saw Alan drug the girl and carry her to his room. We put a lot of facts together and figured out why you ran off. You should have come to us, Emma.”
“Alan Radcliffe had all of you in his pocket,” Emma answered. “And without a witness like Bess, I would have been arrested for killing my own mother. After I ran off, Alan probably also had you believing I stole from him.”
Brown ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, well, be that as it may, Prosecutor Hayes said that he sends you his apologies and regrets. And the fact remains that I came out here searching for Alan Radcliffe to arrest him and take him back to New York.” He turned to Mitch. “It is my understanding that you vigilantes already, uh, took care of the matter.”
Mitch rose and walked over to a cupboard drawer where he kept prerolled cigarettes. “We took care of it, all right. You might say Emma took care of it. She managed to shoot Alan in the midst of him attacking her. The bullet slowed him down enough that he was an easy catch.” He came to the table and removed the chimney from an oil lamp, lighting his cigarette and then replacing the chimney. “Once we got to town, the people here were riled up so much that we held a quick trial right then and there. Judge Brody sentenced Radcliffe to be hanged and the crowd carried out the sentence.”
“And of course you couldn’t stop them, even though vigilante law rules here and this whole town would probably stop in its tracks if you pulled that gun and told them to back off.”
Mitch took a deep drag on the cigarette, sharing a knowing look with Brown. He exhaled. “They knew Radcliffe had murdered Emma’s mother and he came real close to killing Emma. She still isn’t fully recovered.”
Brown glanced at Emma and nodded. “Well, considering that his crime of murder happened in New York, we would have appreciated it if you’d saved him for us, but then, you had no idea that we knew the truth and were after him ourselves.”
“And I don’t care how important the man was back in New York. Out here, he was of no importance at all,” Mitch answered. “What are those other papers you brought?”
Brown cleared his throat again. “One is for Emma to sign verifying she witnessed Alan kill her mother. The other gives me permission to find an attorney to handle Alan Radcliffe’s personal possessions, his businesses, home, valuable paintings, horses and carriages, any money in the bank and such, on behalf of Emma, so she gets her fair share. She’d have to come to New York—”
“No,” Emma interrupted. “I’ll never go back to New York, and I don’t want anything that belonged to Alan Radcliffe. Give it to the poor or the state or whatever is done with unclaimed wealth. I highly doubt there was much left anyway, Mr. Brown, and I don’t want anything to do with anything that represents that man. All I want is what was rightfully mine, and I brought that with me when I left—a necklace that belonged to my mother, and some money that was also hers. I admit I did take a little cash from one of Alan’s dresser drawers. I can give it back if you wish.”
Brown raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Considering what he did to you, I don’t think a few dollars you took from him will matter. Are you sure you don’t want to claim any of his remaining fortune?”
“There is no fortune, Mr. Brown. And no, I don’t want any of it.” She looked at Mitch. “Is that all right with you?”
Mitch shrugged, taking another pull on the cigarette. “You know how I feel about it. What’s yours is yours, to take or to refuse.”
“Mr. Brady, it could be a lot of money,” Brown explained.
“And I’m not stupid, Mr. Brown. I just don’t want it. I didn’t marry Emma for how rich she might be. Fact is, I didn’t even know she did have anything of value when I decided I wanted to marry her. I married her because she’s sweet and beautiful and was so alone I couldn’t stand it. I was alone, too, and we both know about childhood tragedy. I promised her when I asked her to marry me that I didn’t care about her past and didn’t care if she could make me rich. I just plain love her. Is that anything you can understand?”
“It is, Mr. Brady.” He looked Mitch over. “And it seems your feelings belie your size and rough exterior.”
“Mitch is a good man, Mr. Brown,” Emma put in. “Cross him and you’ll wish you hadn’t, but it’s not that way with those he cares about. I’m happy, and I thank you for coming here and clearing things up. It must have been a long trip. If you need to rest up before you go back, you can stay at a boardinghouse called Ma Kelly’s. She’ll put you up.”
“I’ll do that.” He moved a piece of paper in front of Emma. “That document gave your permission for me to choose an attorney to handle your affairs. If you would put something there in your own handwriting stating you want nothing from the estate, I can use that to proceed with dispensing Alan’s belongings and holdings.”
“Gladly.” Emma took the ink pen the man handed her. She dipped it into a small bottle of ink she kept on the table. Brown turned his attention to Mitch as she wrote.
“Police work out here must be vastly different from police work in New York.”
Mitch grinned. “Vastly.” He put out his hand then. “Sorry to be so rude, Brown, but we thought you might be here to try to arrest Emma.”
Brown shook his hand. “I have a feeling I never would have gotten out of town with her.”
Mitch squeezed his hand. “You’re damn right.”
Both men laughed lightly as Emma handed Brown the paper. He looked at Mitch. “May I draw something up to the effect that Alan committed crimes out here and was hanged? I need something official.”
Mitch rose. “Tell Len back at the jail to take you to Judge Brody. He’ll write something up for you.”
“Good.” Brown picked up his hat from the corner of his chair and put it on, glancing at Emma. “Again, Emma, I’m sorry for everything you’ve suffered at Alan Radcliffe’s hands. Fact is, we are finding out a lot of people back in New York were relieved to know he was going to be arrested.”
Emma smiled sadly. “I have no doubt of that, Mr. Brown. And please do thank the young girl who was brave enough to come forward and tell the prosecutor what he’d done to her. That took courage. If she wants to write me or something, I would welcome hearing from her. Sometimes it helps to share something like that with someone else who understands.”
“I’ll do that.” Brown tipped his hat and Mitch followed him to the door, opening it.
“Ma Kelly’s place is down to the left, toward the other end of town,” Mitch told Brown.
Brown nodded and left. Mitch and Emma stood there watching for a moment, and Emma thought how Cabel Brown was taking all her fears and worries with him. Mitch moved behind her and wrapped her into his strong arms. “It’s really over now, Emma.”
She leaned against him. “Are you sure you’re all right with me giving up whatever I might have inherited?”
“Do you really have to ask that?”
Emma turned to face him, moving her arms around his middle and taking joy in his gentle strength. She pressed her face against his chest and breathed in his manly scent. “I never want to go back there, Mitch. I want to stay right here in Montana. Home for me isn’t a place. It’s right here in your arms, no matter where we go or what we do.” She looked up at him. “And I want to remind you once more that if we need money, I’ll sell the necklace.”
Mitch shook his head. “That necklace is your heritage—something to pass down to your own children someday.”
“Our children.”
Mitch leaned down and kissed her tenderly. He moved his lips to her neck. “I might remind you we don’t have any children yet.”
Emma caught his lips in another kiss. “Maybe we should get to work on that.”
Mitch frowned. “I might hurt you. You aren’t ready for that, Emma. Your rib isn’t healed.”<
br />
“And no man can be more gentle than you can. I have a feeling you can figure a way around it.”
Mitch grinned and picked her up in his arms, kicking the door shut and letting the wooden latch fall into place on its own. “It’s a damn good thing we have curtains,” he told her, carrying her to the bed. He took his gun belt back off and hung it over a bedpost.
Read on for an excerpt from
Outlaw Hearts
Coming soon from Sourcebooks Casablanca
From the author…
Outlaw Hearts is the story of wanted man Jake Harkner, who became an outlaw because of a traumatic childhood that led him to think there was no other way to live…until he met a woman who completely changed his life…and his hardened heart. Together they struggle through a life on the run while raising a family, until the law finally finds Jake. This story is about the power of love, a love that is strong enough to see through an outlaw’s heart into the goodness that lies deep inside, a love that overcomes all obstacles to hold two people together against all odds. This book was so dear to me that when I finished it, I knew I had to write a sequel. Recently I did just that, and along with the reissue of Outlaw Hearts in 2015, the sequel, Do Not Forsake Me, will also be published, continuing the beautiful love story of Jake and Randy Harkner, and bringing the readers into the lives of their grown children, who possess the same qualities of strength and enduring love as their parents. I’d like to share with you an excerpt from Outlaw Hearts.
In chapter one, Miranda Hayes witnesses outlaw Jake Harkner shoot a man inside the Kansas City mercantile where Miranda is shopping. Startled and frightened, she pulls a small handgun from her purse and shoots Jake, thinking he might kill her, too. To her surprise, the dangerous-looking man just stares at her, seemingly dumbfounded, then stumbles out of the store and flees. Everyone in town praises Miranda’s bravery in fending off a notorious wanted man, but secretly, Miranda can’t help wondering if the man is perhaps not as bad as his reputation would dictate. He could have shot her, but he didn’t, and now she feels guilty that the man has ridden off somewhere, wounded and in pain because of her.
Desperate Hearts Page 28
