Montana Renegade (Bear Grass Springs Book 4)

by Ramona Flightner

  “Why should I be bothered by ye now? Can ye no’ see I’m busy?” She nodded in the direction of the quiet confrontation, sighing in defeat as Frederick stood in front of her.

  “It’s better if you are not involved, Miss MacKinnon. Besides, you still owe me an apology. This is the boon I desire.” His eyes sparkled with deviltry as he looked at her disgruntled expression.

  “I owe ye no apology!”

  “Did you or did you not accuse me of acting without honor? Of stealing away a woman against her will?” He raised his eyebrows as he waited for her contradiction.

  She flushed and broke eye contact. “I will admit I dinna speak as rationally as I should have.”

  He laughed and tugged on her arm. “Come. Dance with me. They’re starting a waltz.” He bent over and whispered in her ear. “And, if you stomp on my foot, I’ll stomp on yours.”

  She glowered at him but was unable to hide the smile lurking at the corner of her lips. “Ye are daft. I dinna think such illness ran in a family as fine as that of yer grandparents, but ye are daft,” she muttered as she walked with him to the dance floor. She fought a squeal as he spun her into a turn, forcing her to grip his strong shoulders tightly as his hands held onto her waist with a firm touch.

  “You’ll soon learn that this is its own sort of madness,” Frederick whispered in her ear as he expertly danced with her around the floor. He sighed with happiness as she ceased arguing with him and allowed her body to move fluidly with his for the duration of the dance.

  “I’m surprised you’re not over there with your husband, badgering your cousin and brother,” Mrs. Jameson whispered in her daughter’s ear.

  “Mother,” Helen said with derision as she focused on her rather than her husband.

  “Are you pleased with yourself? To see me destitute after all I have done for you?” Her mother glared at Helen as she stood taller.

  “All you have done for me? Turning me into the laughingstock of the town? Destroying my sense of worth? Preventing me from seeing my father?”

  Mrs. Jameson’s face reddened, and she glowered at Helen. “I would never let that man near you again once we were finally free of him!”

  “Once you forced him away after your affair?” Helen said. She hissed as her mother slapped her cheek. She ignored the gasps of those in the room watching their interaction. “You have no right to treat me as you do, Mother.”

  “I have every right. I gave birth to you. I suffered through your worship of that worthless man who fathered you.” Her chest heaved as she hauled in air. “I suffer now as I wait to see that the man you have married will prove as much a disappointment as your father.”

  “Warren is his own man, Mother.” She smiled as she saw the understanding and resentment in her mother’s eyes. She refused to wince as her face ached where her mother had slapped her “You’ll never manipulate him. For his concern is only for me.”

  “He should know his duty to family.” Her mother bristled with indignation.

  “He does, which is why he is solicitous of my well-being.” She paused as she studied her mother, ignoring the burning in her cheek and allowing the townsfolk to see the reddened skin rather than holding a hand up to it as though ashamed. “That should please you, not offend you. Why have you always resented me?”

  “I never wanted you,” her mother said. “I never wanted children. But, if I were to have children, I wanted sons. What good is a daughter?”

  Helen paled but then nodded. “I fear you will need me someday, and then you’ll know what good I could have been for you. But now you’ll never know. You’ll never influence me again, Mother,” Helen whispered. “I am free of you—at last.”

  “You’ll never be free of me. You owe me. You will owe me until the day you die.” Her mother jumped as a gentle hand stilled her erratic arm motions.

  “I believe you owe my wife an apology,” Warren said in a gentle murmur. He waited, his expression intense and somber as he met Mrs. Jameson’s frantic gaze. When Mrs. Jameson refused to speak, he sighed. “I should have expected no less from you.”

  He turned to Helen, blocking her mother from view and cupped her face as his fingers tenderly traced over the reddened area. “Are you all right, love? Do you want to leave and find some ice?” He frowned as his thumb chased away a tear.

  “No, I don’t want to leave. I have nothing to be ashamed of.” She ignored her mother sputtering behind Warren and walked with him toward the MacKinnons at the side of the room.

  After Bertrand left, the extended MacKinnon clan regrouped on the opposite side of the room, and Warren exchanged a long glance with Cailean and Alistair. “I believe he will not bother us again,” he said with a reassuring smile for Helen.

  Harold Tompkins approached and slapped him on the back. “Good to see you taking care of business, young man. Something I keep telling my grandson to do.”

  Warren looked over his shoulder and fought a grin at the sight of Frederick dancing with Sorcha. “They seem content.”

  Harold let out an irritated sigh. “For the moment. Wait until the music ends, and they’ll start yammerin’ away again.” He nodded with appreciation as the women clustered together to chat with Irene and then motioned for the MacKinnon men and Warren to form an informal circle around him. “Have news you might find interesting.”

  “How do ye have news that Jessie doesna?” Ewan asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “I have sources she can only dream about,” Harold said with a wink before sobering. He smiled at Irene as though he were telling one of his tall tales before focusing on his friends. “Seems that new doc who fled town came to an untimely end.”

  “How?” Warren asked. “I wanted him to suffer.”

  Harold snorted and shook his head. “A friend was wandering in the woods recently and came upon his corpse.”

  “What happened?” Alistair whispered.

  “Well, whoever found the doc knows his way around in the forest and left no trace. Tracked the man to a cave where he’d been hiding out, killed him with a stab to his back and then left him there. I imagine he thought a hungry animal would feast on his carcass, but that didn’t seem to occur.” Harold shrugged. “It’s been so darn cold in the mountains that no decayin’ occurred, and the body just froze up. No tellin’ when the man was killed, and I doubt we’ll ever know who killed him.”

  Ewan frowned. “A man like him had plenty of enemies.”

  Cailean nodded. “Especially as he wasn’t a doctor. Any of his so-called gambling friends could have wanted him dead.” He shook his head in disgust. “I can’t mourn his loss.”

  Warren made a sound in his throat. “Not after how he hurt Helen.” He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. “It will be a relief to know he can never harm her or anyone else again.”

  “Seems you’re clearing your life of vermin, Warren,” Harold said as he slapped him on his back and joined Irene and the ladies. Within seconds he had them laughing at a preposterous comment.

  Warren watched a moment before standing beside Helen, his hand clasping hers. “Come dance with me, wife,” he whispered in her ear.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” she teased as she followed him onto the dance floor. She sighed with pleasure as he pulled her into his arms.

  “What did your mother say to you?” he whispered.

  “Nothing I haven’t heard before and that I won’t hear again.” She met his worried gaze with one of resignation. “She believes I owe her. That I will always owe her.”

  He watched her with patient understanding, and she smiled.

  “I realized I didn’t have to listen to her anymore. It’s tremendously freeing.” She rested her head on his chest, whispering, “And sad.”

  “Yes, it is sad, but you need not be limited by her disregard ever again.” He kissed her head as they danced slowly around the room, ignoring all those present.

  The following day Frederick Tompkins loaded up a wagon filled with provisions from the new me
rcantile at the edge of town, across from the Boudoir. He glanced at the muddy roads and sighed.

  “You’re a damn fool, Tompkins,” Walter Jameson said. “You’ll be stuck within a few miles with no one to help you.”

  Frederick tipped his hat back and stared into the insolent man’s gaze. “When I desire a Jameson’s advice, I’ll ask for it.”

  Walter laughed. “You seemed plenty pleased to take my sister’s advice. Among other things.” He wriggled his eyebrows at Frederick and then gasped as he was pushed across the boardwalk until his back was against the wall of the new mercantile.

  “I’d think you’d have better sense than to speak poorly of your sister, Mrs. Clark.” Frederick’s blue eyes glowed with hatred as he pinned the hapless Jameson brother. “You are nothing more than puffed-up hot air, and someone will put you out of your misery before too long.” Frederick let Walter go and stepped back but kept his keen gaze on Walter’s loaded pistol slung on his hips.

  “No man has the right to treat me as you have,” Walter hissed. “You should know I will do everything in my power to make you miserable, Tompkins.”

  “And you must know I will never be afraid of your empty threats.” He shook his head. “There is nothing I have that you can harm.”

  Walter narrowed his gaze. “Not yet. But someday there will be. And I have a long memory. Especially for those who have slighted me.”

  Frederick shook his head. “And you think I don’t?” He backed away, his alert gaze never leaving Walter’s. He nodded to his man, Slims, who joined him. “Do you have everything?”

  “Yes, boss.” Slims, larger by several inches and over twenty pounds of muscle mass, glared at Walter.

  Walter relaxed, dropping his hand away from his waist and his pistol. “Why is it you never shop at your uncle’s store?” Walter asked as Frederick turned to attend to his team. “Could it be because your mother preferred his company to your father’s?”

  Frederick yanked on the bridle with such force that the horse pulling the wagon nearly reared. Frederick ran a soothing hand over the horse’s head before climbing onto the wagon seat with Slims beside him. Frederick ignored Walter, although his jaw ticked and his cheeks were reddened.

  “You’ll never find a woman who will stand by you! That’s why you’ll always be alone!” Walter yelled as Frederick eased the wagon into motion and out of town.

  A week after the dance, Warren sat at home with Helen in his arms, staring at the fire. His fingertips stroked down her back, and he sighed with contentment to hold her. “I spoke with J.P. today. She heard from a friend in Helena. Bertrand will be tried before a judge for attempted murder, but the backlog is long. Two judges died from influenza over the winter. J.P. isn’t sure how long it will be before Bertrand’s lawsuit is called to court.”

  “Shouldn’t an attempted murder case take precedence?”

  “I can’t tell you why they choose to prioritize one case over another. Things are done differently in the Territory than in Philadelphia.”

  “How can we be assured that Bertrand will not bother us again?”

  Warren shrugged. “I think he’s too busy convincing his business colleagues in Helena that he is not a murderer, attempted or not. But Jessamine’s article this week will ensure that our townsfolk will look out for you should he return.” Warren kissed her head. “You’re not alone anymore, Nell.”

  “I know, and I can’t believe the townsfolk are now on my side.” She sighed with happiness as she snuggled into his embrace.

  After a long moment he said, “I have a surprise for you, my love.”

  “I don’t need anything, Warren. Being here with you is all I need.” She kissed his shoulder. “I hope you know that.” She met his gaze, smiling as she saw her happiness reflected in his eyes. “I’m not a woman who needs baubles and jewels to find joy.”

  He chuckled. “I realize that. And you will never know how much that pleases me.” His hold on her tightened. “To know you value what can’t be bought …” He kissed her head.

  “But you still have something for me?” she whispered.

  “It’s in my waistcoat pocket.” He gasped as her fingers tickled his side.

  She pushed herself around until she faced him, her smile infectious. “I’ll have to remember you are ticklish, dear husband.” She kissed his chin and then dug her hand into his waistcoat, frowning as her fingers came into contact with the contents within. Her confused gaze flew to his. “I don’t understand.”

  He smiled as she pulled out a small key. “I know you dreamed of having a safety deposit box in Mr. Finlay’s bank. He’s no longer here. However, I want you to have a box in the new bank.”

  Her eyes were luminous as they looked from the key and then to him. “This is mine?”

  He laughed. “Yes, love. And you can put whatever you want in it.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him. “Thank you, Warren.”

  “There’s something else in the other waistcoat pocket.” He stroked fingers over her cheek as her trembling fingers pressed inside. “It can’t be,” she whispered.

  “Did you believe I wouldn’t do all I could to see them returned to you?” His hand tangled with hers and helped her extract the short strand of pearls from his pocket. “These are yours, Nell. Cruelly bartered away by your mother.”

  He grunted as she threw herself into his arms. “Shh, love, don’t cry.” He rocked her as her sobs intensified. “I thought to bring you joy, not such sadness.”

  She shook her head and pushed back to meet his worried gaze. “No, you misunderstand. I … Never has anyone cared about me as you do. You heard of an injustice toward me, and you righted it.” She dropped the pearls between them and cupped his cheeks between her hands, her fingers scrubbing over his whisker-roughened skin. “You prove your love to me again and again. Because it’s never about things. It’s always about me.” Her voice broke. “An absolute dedication to me.”

  “Of course,” he rasped. “Until the day I die, I will love you best, Nell.” He watched with unbridled joy as her eyes shone with the same promise.

  “As I will you.” She leaned up and kissed him. “Thank you.” She rested so that their foreheads touched.

  “Oh, my Nell,” he whispered as he met her kiss. “Thank you for forgiving me. For believing in me. For loving me.” He smiled and then tickled her nose with his. “We will have the most wondrous life.”

  She sighed. “Oh, yes, we will. Together.”

  He kissed her. “Yes, always together.”

  Do You Want To Learn More About Bear Grass Springs?

  Are you eager to learn more about Bear Grass Springs and its inhabitants? If you are, why not sign up for my newsletter? In my newsletter, I share interesting facts I learn from my research and photos from my research trips to ghost towns and historical sites around Montana.

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  And don’t worry, there are many more BGS books to come- I’m busy at work on them right now!

  Acknowledgments

  Writing is an act of love, but also of perseverance. Knowing that there are fans, eager to read the next book, makes sitting in a chair for hours as I think of ways for my characters to act is a gift. Thank you!

  My family is patient with me as I continue to disappear to work on novels and research. Thank you for your ongoing interest and enthusiasm!

  DB- you’re the best! Your ability to catch little mistakes (like when I’m using a name for the second or fifth time) is invaluable. As is your friendship. Thank you!

  Jenny Q- thank you for your patience with me as you continue to produce gorgeous covers.

  Also by Ramona Flightner

  Montana Untamed (Bear Grass Springs, Book One)

  Montana Grit (Bear Grass Springs, Book Two)

  Montana Maverick (Bear Grass Springs, Book Three)

  With More to Come in the BGS Series!

&n
bsp; Banished Saga Books 1 and 2 (Banished Love and Reclaimed Love)

  Undaunted Love, Part One (Banished Saga, Book 3)

  Undaunted Love, Part Two (Banished Saga, Book 3.5)

  With More in the Banished Saga:

  Ramona’s Books