by Ciara Knight
Knowing Stella, she meant every word. But if he couldn’t convince her to stay by the time they reached Glendive then he’d put her on the train home.
He shuffled out the front door and hoisted her suitcase into the wagon. “You forget anything you might need? I can have Stella pack you a lunch for the trip, and we could go for a walk in the meantime. Train won’t be leaving for a bit.”
“No, it’s best if we get going. I’m not hungry anyway.” Adelaide remained rigid on the driver's seat, staring forward.
They made their way from the homestead along the path toward Glendive. He gave the team of horses as much slack on the reins as he could, hoping the slower pace would give him more time to convince Adelaide.
Once they were out of sight from the homestead, he stopped the horses and took Adelaide’s hand. “Please, listen to me. I realize I said I wanted to send you away, but you need to understand that I truly believed I was doing the right thing, that it was the only way to protect you. But Billy spent two hours knocking some sense into me and I realized that it was more to protect myself. I couldn’t bear to watch another person I love wither away and die in front of me. Do you hear me, Adelaide? I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. I know now I can’t live without you. Even if it means giving up on this land.”
“Stop. Just stop.” Adelaide’s voice cracked. “We're married because we were forced into it, not because we chose to. It was a mistake. Now, you want to send me away at the first sign of trouble, without discussing it with me. I was angry, but now I see the truth of it. It’s time for me to leave. Now either drive us into town or I’ll find another way. Even if I have to ask Salter to take me.”
Her words lashed him. There was no choice; he could see her determination in the set of her brows. When she got an idea into her head, there was no stopping her. He swallowed the anger and sadness, somehow finding the strength to get the horses moving once more.
They rode in silence the rest of the way to town. There were so many things he wanted to say, but she’d made her point. He doubted she'd listen anyway. She was leaving, and nothing he said would change her mind. Their marriage had been a mistake, at least in her eyes.
He pulled up in front of the station and retrieved her bag from the buckboard. “I can’t watch you get on that train, Adelaide. I’ll get someone to help you with your bag.”
“No need.” She reached for it, but he let it fall to the ground and wrapped both arms around her, kissing her with all the passion and love he had. A kiss to show her how much he loved her, to convince her not to leave. A kiss to keep them together forever. He didn’t care that people were stopping to watch or gossip. He only cared about Adelaide. The way her body melted to his he knew she loved him, too.
But all too soon, she broke the kiss, grabbed her bag, and raced into the station, leaving him standing next to the empty buggy.
His heart urged him to go after her, to do anything to convince her to stay, but turning his back on her last night had created an irreparable rift between them. One he didn't know how to fix.
“Mr. Rivers?” A girl in a blue bonnet clasped her hands in front of her then looked back to the train station.
He nodded then put his hat on his head. “Morning, ma’am.”
“Wait, don’t leave." She snagged the back of his coat as he turned to climb back into the wagon. "There is something you need to know.”
He didn’t want to speak with anyone right now, especially not his wife's friend. His emotions were raw and he wanted to get out of town before he did something stupid. “I don’t have time right now. I need to get back to my—”
“It’s about Adelaide.”
He froze halfway into the wagon then turned and stepped back down onto the boardwalk. “What about my wife? Did she tell you something?”
“No, not exactly. I’ve only seen her once since we arrived in Glendive. When I helped her with some merchandise and—”
“What is the point, Mrs. Donahue?”
“Please, call me Becca.” She wrung a handkerchief in her hands with obvious nervousness and he forced himself to calm down. “The point is that I overheard something, and I think that might be why your wife’s getting on that train. Did she tell you about the telegram she got?”
“What telegram? What are you talking about?”
She kept her attention on the handkerchief in her hands. “I was at the telegraph office when Mr. Salter told the man he wanted the telegram to be sent from Adelaide’s stepfather.”
He scooted closer, blocking her path in case she decided to flee. “You’re telling me Salter sent a telegram to Adelaide? But how would he know about her stepfather?”
The young woman swallowed. “My husband told me not to speak of this to anyone. That Salter would burn down our business and home if he found out, but…I couldn’t let Adelaide go like this.”
“Do you know what the telegram said?”
Becca nodded. “She thinks her stepfather is on his way here to make her a widow.”
Dumbstruck, John stared at her. That was why Adelaide was so bound and determined to leave. He'd known something wasn’t right, he’d seen it in her eyes. She loved him, so only something grave could have made her change her mind.
“I have to stop her.” John sprinted to the door.
“Wait! There’s more!” she hollered after him, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t care what else she knew. He only cared about getting Adelaide back.
He reached the platform, nearly empty as the conductor made the last boarding call. With no idea which car she’d entered, he raced down the train, peering into each window. “Adelaide!” he yelled.
People turned in their seats, watching him as if he was an Indian on a warpath.
As the whistle blew, he grasped a railing and hoisted himself up on a step, but a man blocked him from boarding. “Ticket, please.”
“I don’t have a ticket. I just need to find my wife.”
“You can’t board without a ticket, sir. And the train is now leaving the station.”
“Adelaide,” he called out again. No answer.
Hands grasped his shoulders from behind and yanked him from the car, dragging him back onto the platform. Fists slammed into his gut and he doubled over, a deep pain sucking the air from his lungs. Saltor’s men. He'd know them anywhere.
Three of them gathered around him, chuckling. “You heard the man. You're not allowed on the train. It’s leaving and taking your wife with it. Or should we say your widow.”
“No.” He rammed the man in front of him, sending him crashing to the floor with a loud thud. A hand grasped his arm and swung him around while another fist connected with his face. Two more men joined the fight. But he couldn’t fold, not even against five. He’d fight to the death to find Adelaide.
The men had him pinned to the ground, a knee in his back and hand to his face while someone sat on his legs. He bucked, trying to free himself but they only pushed harder. The whistle blew once more and he froze, his cheek pressed to the splintered wood of the platform as he watched the train pull away from the station.
Chapter Twelve
A ruckus outside drew everyone’s attention, but Adelaide didn’t care about anything in the world right then. Nothing mattered, not without John by her side.
“Isn’t that John Rivers?” a passenger cried.
What?
“He’s getting killed.” another voice said a little louder. More and more murmurs filled the passenger car.
She bolted from her seat, shoving people aside and pressing her face to the window to find John face down on the platform. Men were kicking and punching him. She was too late. Her stepfather had already sent his men to kill John.
Her insides churned as the train lurched forward. No! They were just going to leave him there to be beaten to death? “Help him. Someone help!” She shoved past the onlookers crowding the aisle to the door, past the ticket man and down the steps, hopping off the moving train before the ticket ma
n could stop her. Her feet hit the platform and she stumbled, but quickly regained her footing.
“Get off him!” she yelled and raced the length of the platform. Dark red was smeared across the platform by John’s body, but still the men didn’t stop. She hiked up her skirts and charged, shouldering one of the men in the chest. He only stumbled, her weight not enough to throw him off balance. She swung her bag, clubbing him in the head, then slung it over one of the others, beating him repeatedly. “You stupid cowards. Get off him. Five against one isn’t fair.”
“Ma’am, step back.” Someone wrapped their arms around her middle to pull her away, but she thrashed like a rabid dog. No, she wouldn't leave John to die. “Get off me! If you won’t help him, I will.”
A whistle sounded and several men rushed to their side, tackling the assaulters. But not fast enough. One man continued to kick John in the ribs. Using the person holding her as leverage, she swung her foot out with all her might, kicking the man who attacked John as hard as she could. Her shoe caught his chin and split it. Blood gushed and he went down like a toddler, wailing in agony. “Serves you right,” she yelled.
Bystanders crowded around, staring in shock at her husband, beaten and bloodied.
“Let me go! That’s my husband.” She wiggled free and collapsed to her knees with a loud thud. “John? Oh, John! What have I done? It’s all my fault.” She rolled him over onto his side. His lip was split, one eye badly bruised and swollen, but that was only the external damage. Who knew how many ribs had been broken, or if his organs were bleeding internally.
He coughed, blood shooting from his mouth onto the platform. “I couldn’t let you go.”
“You have to, John," she sobbed. "You just have to.”
He reached for her, his movements strained. “Please, Adelaide. Stay. You don’t have to…” His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed.
“Move aside, ma’am. We’ll get him to the doc.”
Adelaide looked up to see a man in a black coat, a shiny silver badge pinned to the lapel. “Please hurry,” she begged, her body shaking with fear.
The men hoisted John up, his body limp as they carried him out of the train station and across the road to the back of a building. She followed them, her eyes never leaving John.
“Doc, we got an emergency here,” one called.
They lowered him onto a table and Adelaide shoved past them to his side.
“Ma’am, you best wait outside.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere. This is my husband and I'm not leaving him.”
“Calm down now, ma’am,” an older man said as he came into the room. He looked over John, checking his eyes and feeling along his abdomen. Finally, he turned to her. “I'm Doctor Masken. I think it best you listen to these men. Your husband needs surgery and that's not something a lady should witness.”
She planted her heels into the floor and crossed her arms. “I can handle it.” She turned her head and showed the doctor her burn scar. “I’ve seen worse,” she lied. She may have almost died in that fire, but she’d never seen a man beaten before, never seen a surgery either. But her fear that he’d never wake up kept her rooted to the spot. She’d been so horrible to him, all to try and save his life. But it had all been for nothing. “I’ll help, do anything. Just, please, don’t make me leave his side.”
“Fine,” the doctor sighed. “At least sit down then, so you don’t go fainting on me.”
One of the men directed her to a chair near the table and the doctor grabbed a small razor and slid it over the swelling beneath John’s eye.
“I need to relieve the pressure or he’ll lose his eye,” he explained.
Her limbs felt heavy and the room swayed in a grey blur.
“Sure you want to stay, ma’am? It’s just gonna get worse from here.”
“I’m not leaving him,” she murmured. Not again.
Adelaide sat and watched as the doctor worked on John for over an hour, resetting a broken collarbone and bandaging several ribs. He had to push John’s shoulder back into its socket, the popping, crunching sound was the most horrible thing she’d ever heard.
She swallowed the acid burning her throat, but remained steadfast by his side. She’d done this to him. This was all her fault.
“I’ve done what I can,” the doctor said finally. He picked up a towel and wiped his hands. “We’ll know by morning. He was lucky though. Most of his ribs held up. Just don’t know if any bone shards managed to pierce his lungs. But he seems to be breathing fine. He’ll be in a world of pain and not able to do much for a good long while, but he should recover just fine if he makes it through the night.” He walked over to stand before Adelaide. “Why don’t you go home, ma’am? He probably won’t wake until late this evening and you look like you could use a rest.”
“No,” she said, her voice cracking. “I won’t leave this spot until he wakes up.” But once he woke up, and she ensured he was all right, she needed to get out of town. She couldn’t bear the thought of him ever suffering like this again. And she’d do anything to make sure he didn’t.
The doctor opened the door and beckoned two men inside. “Move him to the bed, please.” They lifted him from the table, leaving John's bloodied clothes behind. “Careful. Try to keep him as flat and straight as possible.”
The men shuffled to the back of the next room and placed John on a mattress. Then they both tipped their hats and headed for the door, but Adelaide blocked their exit.
“Wait. What’s being done about this? Any arrests made yet?”
The two men glanced at one another. “No, ma’am,” the taller one said. “Best you just stay out of it.” They hurried past her before she could protest further.
No, she wouldn’t stay out of it, but now wasn’t the time. Right now, she needed to stay by John’s side.
She scooted a chair up next to his bed and took his hand gently in hers. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should have told you the truth, but I was afraid you wouldn’t let me go. But I have to, just as soon as you’re well. I can’t let this happen to you again. I love you, John.”
She rested her forehead against his hand and prayed. Prayed that he would wake up soon. Prayed that he would understand and forgive her. Prayed her stepfather could be reasoned with before he killed the man she loved. And most of all, she prayed she wouldn’t be a widow come morning.
****
John woke to a deep, clamping pain throughout his abdomen. Each breath tightened the vice more and more. His shoulder and eye throbbed. His entire body felt heavy with aches and pains.
“Adelaide,” he whispered past the dryness in his mouth and throat.
He managed to open one eye to see a dimly lit room. Something soft twisted around his fingers and the smell of roses faintly penetrated the metallic scent of blood. “Adelaide.”
The strands of hair slid from his fingers. “John?” Her voice soothed the ache in his chest.
“Doctor Masken! He’s awake!”
He tried to swallow, to get more air into his lungs. “Wait.”
“No, he needs to check you. It’s a miracle you’re even awake.” She choked back a sob then her scent and warmth were gone. He searched for her, finding her silhouetted at the door. No, don’t leave. His eyes were heavy with fatigue and his body desperately wanted to leave the painful world for a while longer.
His vision blurred, but he could make out another figure in the room.
“Adelaide, you don’t have to leave. Stay,” John pleaded through the haze fogging his brain.
“He needs to remain calm, ma’am,” a man said.
Adelaide squeezed his hand. “Don’t talk right now. Just relax.”
John swallowed the strong taste of blood, clearing his throat enough to make out the words. “No, you have to know.” He tried to sit up, but arms pushed him back against the bed.
“Whatever you have to tell him to keep him still, do it.”
“I’ll stay,” Adelaide said, but her voice h
eld such sadness. “I promise. I won’t leave before you’re strong again.”
He tried to tell her to never leave, to stay with him always, but he slipped away into darkness again.
When he awoke, sunlight flooded into the room. He tried to look around, to figure out where he was, but every movement had him cringing in pain.
Adelaide’s head lifted from his hand. She looked exhausted, her eyes surrounded by dark circles, her hair disheveled.
“You stayed?” he managed.
She snagged a cup from a nearby table and held his head for him to sip. At first, the liquid burned his throat, fighting its way down, but by the third sip, the coolness soothed his dry throat.
“Thank you,” he said hoarsely.
“It’s good to see you awake. Are you in too much pain? I can get the doctor.”
“No, I’m okay. I just want to speak to you alone for a moment.”
Adelaide placed a hand on his, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know my stepfather would send those men after you so soon. I thought I could get back to Maryland and convince my family to leave you alone before they arrived.”
Dear Lord in Heaven, she thought his beating was because of her? “It wasn’t your stepfather, Adelaide. Those were Salter’s men. I recognized several of them. So, it had nothing to do with you or your family.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I received a telegram from my stepfather that he’d make me a widow. He wanted to kill you, and he nearly succeeded.”
“The telegram wasn’t from your father,” John said. “Salter sent it.”
Her eyebrows rose in shock and disbelief. “What? You don’t know what you’re saying. Why would Salter—”
“To get at me. He’s gone to great lengths to torture me over the years, but it’s never gone this far. He wants my land desperately since I’m the only land owner in direct competition with him now. If he gets his hands on Wilson’s and my lands, he’ll own all the grazing rights in Glendive. The Texans will have no choice but to go through him to graze their cattle before they’re shipped back east.” He took a breath and swallowed again. He had to get the words out, had to make her understand. “He probably sent those men under the guise of your stepfather, not only to get you to leave but to make sure I have no way to buy Wilson’s land. With both our homesteads, along with his, he’d be the richest man in Dawson County.”
