by Ciara Knight
John spotted Salter and his men dismounting and hitching their horses to a post outside the saloon. Piano music, laughter, and singing bled from the innards of the bar. Salter's men bolted through the swinging doors and disappeared beyond sight, but Salter remained outside adjusting his oversized hat. His narrow face and pointed nose, along with the pearled handle of his oversized gun strapped to his side, made him look like some kid dressed up in his daddy’s clothes. But what the man lacked in stature he made up for in ruthlessness.
He strutted toward the train station and tipped his hat. “John, expecting company?”
“You?” John retorted.
“I’m here to fetch my wife. I’ve done made my money, so it’s time to settle down," Salter smirked. "I’d ask if you were here for the same, but I'm guessing you’re too busy trying to figure out how to survive with the new no roaming laws and that fencin’ going up. I mean, how are you going to water your herd with no major water source?” Salter gave him a mocking look. “Oh, did you not figure that out yet? You always were a little slow. Guess that deal with the Texans to use your land will fall through now. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that for you.”
John fisted his hands. Lord, give me the strength not to throw him on the tracks. “I’m well aware of the current situation, and you needn't worry. I’ll be just fine, no matter how many stunts you pull to put me out of business.”
“Business? You stole my business and claimed it as your own. You only know what I taught you about cattle. Without all my knowledge, you won't survive long.” Salter tucked his thumbs in his belt, his legs spread wide in triumph.
“Say what you want, but you’re not going to run me out of business the way you did the Johnsons. I’m not that easily spooked into selling.”
“I bought their land fair and square. Just as I’m going to buy your land.” The man nudged forward, challenging him, but John stood his ground.
“You two gonna stand there all day with your hackles up like dogs, or are you going to go meet the women?” Stella asked.
Neither answered or moved, both refusing to back down.
“For land’s sake.” Stella shoved the door open and marched to the train platform before either man broke their hard stare.
“C’mon, boss," Billy urged. "Don’t want to be late. Train’s pulling into the station.”
The tooting of the train's horn drew Salter’s attention from their stare down. “Best be going.” He sauntered through the doors and reluctantly, John followed.
His thoughts went to the poor, unsuspecting girl about to get off that train into the arms of the beast in front of him. Salter was known to be rough in business, rough with his animals, and rough with his women. That girl should just stay on that train. For all Salter's wealth and property, no amount of luxury was worth facing a hard life with a hard man.
The train rolled to a stop and John’s gut tightened. He wasn’t sure if it was for the woman he had to send away, or the woman about to be under Salter's thumb.
Stella snatched John's hat off his head. “You best be gentlemanly when you reject the poor girl. I won’t stand for no disrespect.”
John caught the smile tugging at the corners of Billy’s mouth as he pretended to scan the platform. “You know that if any men spoke to me the way your wife does they’d be on their backside, right?”
“Yep,” Billy replied, his eyes transfixed on the train.
“But you know I love Stella like my own mother.”
“Yep.”
The rumble of the train vibrated the platform under his feet, and the smell of the coal mixed with the talc powder Billy's wife put on his neck after shaving him. The hiss of the engine and the doors opening drew everyone a step closer to the passenger cars. A group of men huddled a few feet from Salter, letters pressed in the palm of all their hands. Only an occasional tip of a hat or nod showed any indication the men knew Salter, but they did. All of them did. John knew full well they wanted to be ghosts in the wind so Salter wouldn’t take notice and decide to put them out of business, take away their land, or worse. They didn’t know what the worst was, just that they should avoid it at all cost. But John knew. After working for the beast for five years, John knew all about Salter's crooked business dealings.
The men stood tall, even Salter, as if waiting for their mothers to approve their Sunday best.
“Did I get any letters?” John asked before he'd fully formed the question in his stupid brain.
Smiling slyly, Stella whipped out a small, opened envelope. “She’s well educated for sure. I think her family’s got money or something, but she doesn’t say.”
A twinge of annoyance barked through him at her reading the letter without his permission, but he wouldn’t say nothing. Not when it would give her cause to think he cared, or that he had even an inkling to entertain this insane idea of marrying a complete stranger.
He tugged the note free and read the beautiful script.
It was a pleasure to receive your invitation and train ticket. I’m looking forward to the next adventure in my life with you. The open land and landscapes will be a pleasure after living in the city for so long. I look forward to long walks, hard work, and intelligent conversation. I’m excited to witness the new ways of the west. I hope you will find me to your liking in appearance, abilities, and attitude.
I look forward to meeting you at the train station. I’ll be the one with black hair in a black dress.
Your wife-to-be,
Adelaide
He flipped the paper over, but to his disappointment there was nothing else written. “It doesn’t say much about her, does it?”
“Not much to say when you don’t know someone," Stella said. "You know, you don’t have to marry her today, even though the pastor is standing by. You can get to know her first. She's welcome to stay with us while you two get to know each other, or at the boarding house in town. It would be quite respectable.”
He eyed two young women who couldn’t be over sixteen disembark the train. They clung to one another for a few moments as they introduced themselves to the men. In the blink of an eye, they were separated, each taken away by a different man. He could never take a woman he'd just met and lead her to the pastor.
Another woman strutted down the stairs, her weight throwing her off balance. When she introduced herself, Barkley, the farmer from the other end of town shrugged. “Well, at least she has the strength to work with me.”
John shook his head at the thought of the man joining with a woman for life just because she could do hard labor. Is that why his father had chosen his mother? They’d worked themselves into an early grave before he could barely fend for himself. Not the life he’d want for his wife. When he finally chose one, she’d be taken care of, not treated like a pack mule.
The rest of the men greeted their wives, leaving Salter, Mr. Donahue the mercantile owner, and John waiting on the platform. A hint of disappointment in not meeting the woman at the other end of the letter nipped at him. He shook his head and shoved the letter in his pocket. “Guess you were mistaken. No woman for me.”
Stella gripped his elbow before he could escape. “Look.”
John saw a woman step down onto the platform, another in a blue bonnet clinging to her side. The mercantile owner greeted the girl in the bonnet then ushered her away.
“Goodbye, Becca,” the dark haired woman called out before standing alone on the platform. She was stunning, a raven-haired beauty with small features, thin stature, and full lips. Salter greeted her, his hand kneading her shoulder and arm in an overly familiar way. She visibly tensed and tried to step back, but Salter only tightened his grip.
John’s head spun. He looked to Billy then Stella and finally to God. What the hell was he going to do? How could he sentence the girl to a life with Salter?
Chapter Three
“I’m thinking you must be mine,” a tall man with small eyes said. His words slithered along Adelaide’s skin like the rattlers she’d read a
bout before heading west. Something told her his words were just as poisonous. An oversized hat swayed on his head with each movement and his shoulders looked harsh beneath the fabric of his immaculate shirt.
She tried to pull free. This couldn’t be the man she'd traveled all the way west to marry. Life couldn’t be that cruel.
He tightened his grip. “I believe you’re here to be my wife. I’m the last man here.”
“No, you’re not.” A deep voice with a hint of anger drew the man’s attention long enough for her to slip her arm free.
The man in the oversized hat snarled, the look on his face the same one she imagine Billy the Kid had before he shot someone. “Thought you weren’t here for no woman.”
Adelaide's hand flew to her thundering chest and she stepped away. She scanned the platform for Becca, the girl she’d befriended on the long train ride, but she was nowhere in sight. She’d never felt so alone in her life.
A tall, broad-shouldered, tan, and handsome man inserted himself between the man with the oversized hat and herself. “Before you go carting a girl off to your home, I think you should show proof. What’s your woman’s name? What does she look like?”
“She looks like that beauty standing behind you. Dark hair, brown eyes, thin, and pretty.”
An older woman with a man at her side joined them. “Hello, dear. I’m so sorry for this confusion. You’re here to be married, correct?”
Adelaide couldn’t find the words, so she nodded.
“Do you have anything to indicate who you’re to marry?”
“As I said, she’s here to marry me.” The man in the oversized hat reached for her, but the broad-shouldered man shoved him back. The intensity on both their faces frightened her and she feared the man in the oversized hat might pull out the gun at his hip at any moment.
She didn’t know for sure if the man described in the letter was the man who came to her defense, but the description was close enough. Since she wasn’t about to take her chances with the aggressive one, and her only other option was to get back on the train and go home, she pointed to the broad-shouldered man. “I am promised to him.”
The man sidestepped around her defender, his oversized hat swiveling on his head. “If you have a letter, tell me the name of the man you were promised to.”
She slid the letter from her purse and eyed them both. With a quick silent prayer, she read, “John Rivers.” The paper crinkled in her hands, people conversed nearby, doors slammed, and her pulse pounded in her ears as the seconds ticked by.
“That would be me, ma’am.” The broad-shouldered man offered his hand, but before she had a chance to take it, the man in the oversized hat grabbed her arm, his thumb and fingers dug deep into her skin. His face twisted, his upper lip twitched and pulled high, revealing yellowed and brown teeth with black specks near his gums.
“I think there’s been a mistake,” the man in the oversized hat said. His head shot left then right, his eyes dancing around the platform. “I ordered myself a bride, and there are no more coming off this train. I need a woman to give me sons and I have a mountain of money to spoil her with. You don’t want this boy, he’ll never be able to give you what you need.”
“B-but I have a written agreement with John Rivers. I gave my word.” She lifted the paper as a reminder of their pledge. Her arm ached from his death grip and she winced.
John growled like an animal. “Unhand her before you lose your fingers.”
The man released her, but snatched the paper from her hand, ripped it to shreds and threw the pieces and tossed them onto the tracks under the train. The wind carried several off. “Now that we’ve taken care of that, we can consider other options for such a pretty lady. You don’t need to accept a man you’ve never met. I’ll take good care of you. Now, come on.”
“I warned you, Salter.” John grabbed the man’s wrist with a low growl of obvious warning.
All three of their limbs were connected, and Salter squeezed her wrist until she yelped in pain.
Salter unfurled his fingers and held his hands up. “We’ll just take this to the sheriff to work out. Ma’am, after you.”
Adelaide stood for a moment, her gaze dancing between the men. Certainly, she hadn’t traveled all this way to be forced to marry another man that threatened to harm her as soon as the marriage was final. “I’ll not be forced to marry a man that I do not wish to take as my husband.”
Salter rounded on her, his lips pressed thin and his brows arching together. “I believe you are mistaken, ma’am. Besides, I have a legally-binding contract through the agency that I would receive my bride on this train.”
The older woman inserted herself between her and John, placing her arm around her shoulders. She nudged John and whispered, “What are you going to do? You know he’s got the sheriff in his pocket.”
“Then show us the contract,” John said to Salter. “I’m sure you have it on you, along with a letter from your perspective bride.”
“It’s at the homestead, but I’m sure the sheriff will trust the word of the town's most prominent businessman over a rancher.”
John lifted his chin. “I’m under contract to marry Ms. Adelaide Baker. You’ll have to contact your service and tell them they’ve made an error.”
Salter sneered. “You know I always get what I want, John. I’ll be back in town with a legal document proving Ms. Adelaide will be leaving with me. We both know you’ll never marry her.”
Adelaide's emotions danced between relief and dread. Would John really not marry her? If not, she’d just get back on the train and head home. Perhaps she could find a way to hide out from Horst until she could find a new match.
John took a step forward, using his body to shove Salter further away from her. “You can be on your way now. Unless you have a paper to say otherwise, you have nothing more to do with Ms. Baker.”
Salter laughed in a deep guttural tone. The older woman at Adelaide’s side tightened her grip around her shoulders. The other man that looked to be the woman’s husband stepped closer to John. “We best be going, sir. We have a long trip and we don’t want to be out after dark.”
John offered his arm to Adelaide. She scanned everyone on the platform, from the conductor to the woman at her side and the three men in a circle of confrontation. With only seconds to decide, she danced between returning to Boston and begging her mother and stepfather to break her engagement to Horst Chatgonwitz, hiding out, or taking John’s arm. The only thing she wouldn’t consider was leaving with Salter. Something told her that man would make a brute like Horst look as harmless as a newborn calf.
She inhaled the smoky evening air and slid her fingers into the crook of John’s arm.
The older man grabbed her bag from the attendant. “Hi, I’m Billy, Stella’s husband. Welcome to Montana.” With a shake of his head and a nervous, light chuckle, he led the way through the building to the main road.
The town didn’t look like Boston or where she grew up in Maryland. Hot and dry, the soil was more of a golden brown here than the dark rich color back home. Even the sun looked different the way it reflected off the windows of a small mercantile across the street. The townsfolk's attire was simpler and less refined, more suitable for doing manual labor than debating politics. An enthusiastic melody leaked from the saloon down the street.
“Aren’t you headed to the pastor?” Salter said in a challenging tone. A thick, murky cloud of warning stopped them both in their tracks.
John cupped her fingers on his arm. She was convinced he planned to ignore the taunt until they heard the sound of a gun cocking. Adelaide stiffened. She’d only heard it one other time in her life. The night her father was murdered, the night her entire life changed. It was a sound that would forever haunt her. She struggled to breathe through the darkness of loss and past the threat of it happening all over again.
“You best put that away,” John said, his voice unsettlingly calm. Still he didn’t turn around to face Salter. "There’s en
ough witnesses here even you won't get away with murder…this time."
“I’m just thinking of this lady's honor. I can’t allow you to take her, an unmarried woman, to your homestead. She should remain in town tonight. I’ll return tomorrow with the proper paperwork to claim my property and all this nonsense will be over.”
Adelaide had worked hard on controlling her tongue in a man's presence. Horst had attempted to train her to not speak unless invited to, but she could hold her tongue no longer. She slid her hand from John’s arm and whirled on Salter, halting only a step away from the barrel of his aimed gun. “You seem to be under the delusion that I’m your property, but I can assure you I am no man’s property. And no amount of you threatening me will ever change that, so put that gun away. I can assure you I am quite capable of taking care of myself.”
Salter’s mouth dropped open for a moment. A snicker from Stella sounded behind her. Townspeople halted in their tracks and Adelaide tensed. What if her outburst only fueled his anger? He wouldn’t shoot them right here in front of the train station, would he?
A strong, yet gentle hand slid to the small of her back. The support helped her remain determined and she held her ground. Salter could shoot them if he chose but she would never be his property. This was her future and she had a say in what happened. Just as she refused to be offered off like a business trade by her stepfather, she wouldn’t be threatened into a marriage.
“Ms. Baker, I’m a man who gets what he wants, one way or another. And when I return with my contract, you will be marrying me.”
“Don't waste your time, Salter," John said, his hand still gentle on her back. "We’ll be married by the time you return. That is, Ms. Baker, if that is your wish. If not, I will put you up in the hotel for the night and get you on the next train out of town tomorrow.”
Salter snarled, the left side of his lip rising, but he returned the gun to his holster. “Why you toying with the girl that way? You shouldn’t get her hopes up when we both know you ain’t gonna marry her. What kind of future can you even offer her, especially after I buy up all your land? You'll have nothing, be nothing.”
