RattlingtheCage

by Ann Cory

  * * * * *

  Not wanting the spotlight on her, Montana shifted the focus. “Tell me, what’s your story? Restless man out playing vigilante? Bounty hunter? Murderer?”

  His jaw tensed.

  “Come on,” she prodded. “I’ve shared parts of my sordid little history. Actually, I’ve shared a lot with you tonight. It’s only fair.”

  After several minutes of silent coaxing, he conceded. “Did you know this town used to have a different name?”

  She shook her head.

  “It used to be called Cage Crossing. A thriving town with beautiful homes and good-natured people. What took years to build ended up destroyed in a day.”

  The name Cage sounded familiar, but she didn’t know from where. “What happened?”

  “My grandfather and his father helped build the city, and eventually my grandpa ran the bank. JR Mitchum, Clint’s father, up and got greedy one day. He’d always had an issue with my grandpa because he married my grandma. The way I heard it, she had all the men eating out of the palm of her hand, but she had eyes only for my gramps.”

  Montana arched a brow. “So there’s a little romance in your blood.”

  “Nope. Skipped a generation or two.”

  Her shoulders sagged.

  “JR had it fixed in his mind to do whatever it took to bring down my grandpa and soil his reputation. Hoped it would make my grandma leave him. Only, it brought them closer.”

  He paused and then smiled, and she imagined a woman every bit as stubborn as Lawson.

  “Course that pissed JR off even more,” he continued, “so he made it his mission to turn the town against gramps. The sheriff at the time went missing, and the judge appointed JR to take his place. No doubt from some coaxing with cash. Pretty soon Mitchum started pocketing the townspeople’s money, raising their property taxes and increasing prices on goods. He became your all-around bully who happened to have the law on his side.”

  Feeling the wind knocked out of her, Montana sat back on the bed. “So people put their money in the bank and then Mitchum stole from the bank?”

  “Yep. But he did far worse things. He regulated how many children a family could have. Young girls were sent away to orphanages, older ones were sent to whore houses. I heard he made a percentage off each one.”

  Her stomach soured. “How did he get away with all of it?”

  “With the law holding everyone’s lives for ransom, they easily swept everything under the dirt. The Mitchums bought off the law in the surrounding towns so that no one had anyone to turn to.”

  “My god.” Montana shook her head. She’d always considered Mitchum a bogeyman, but now she realized he was worse than any nightmare.

  “Wasn’t long before JR put his son, Clint, to work at the bank. A week later he claimed that gramps stole wads of cash.”

  She searched his eyes. “Did people believe him?”

  “Grandma said they didn’t, but who knows. The Cage name got hammered into the ground along with my grandpa’s reputation.”

  “Did he fight the accusations?”

  His expression softened. “With words, yes, but he was a peaceful man. Didn’t have the heart for violence.”

  Something in his voice made her think he wished that hadn’t been the case. “Does that upset you?”

  His eyes downturned. “I don’t begrudge him for not taking a stand. I’d have done different, but he handled it the way he wanted.”

  “So he went to jail?”

  “Nope.” He paused and paced along the room. Quick strides that turned him into a blur. “They shot him and burned his house to the ground. My mom tried to stop them, and she got shot, along with my week-old baby sister. They all burned.”

  Her hands covered her mouth. “Oh, Lawson.” She wanted to run to him and hold him, but the tension he wore on his face deterred her.

  “My grandma and I were on our way back from the mercantile when we saw smoke billowing in the distance. By sunset, Cage Crossing had become a hole in the ground.”

  Montana winced. “I’m so sorry. What did you do? Where did you go?”

  He paused, his jaw clenched. “We moved to Arizona. Grandma had a friend who lived there. I don’t know how she convinced JR to let her go, but I guess since gramps no longer had her, it didn’t matter as much. She never loved another man.”

  “Where was your father through all of this?”

  Montana caught a glimpse of pain in his eyes before he went back to pacing. “About a month before the fire, he was shipped off on some train with a handful of men to do business for Mitchum. None of them returned.”

  “You think it was on purpose?”

  He faced her. “Had to be. I’ve been all over the area throughout the years looking for clues, but they covered it up so well that there’s no trace. Somewhere they disappeared.”

  “Jesus. So the Mitchums erased everything good that your family did for the town.”

  “Yep.”

  “And then erased them.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “And you’re here to make Mitchum pay.”

  He nodded.

  “But JR set the fire,” she reasoned. “How does Clint figure into this other than accusing your grandpa and being born into a rotten family?”

  “Clint was the one who shot my mom and sister. He has the same evil that ran through his family’s blood. It would seem that so far he has been carrying on the Mitchum legacy.” He took the silver dollar out of his pocket, flipped it and caught it in his palm. “When my grandma died, I swore I’d return to Rattler City and hunt down Clint and anyone else who helped bring Cage Crossing to ruin. And then burn the place down.”

  She took a few minutes to absorb it all, wrestling in her mind for anything of comfort to say. It dawned on her that while she understood his motivation, she still didn’t understand the man.

  “You know, the more you tell me, the more mysterious you become. I don’t know what makes you tick.”

  “I’m a man who learned that there isn’t room for friends in life. Enemies are easier. You take your enemies out. Everyone’s better off.”

  “Am I an enemy?”

  “No. And you’re not a friend.”

  Montana pushed off the bed to her feet and approached him.

  He stepped away, his head shaking.

  Her skin bristled at the blatant rejection but she played it cool.

  “So what’s the plan once you leave here?”

  “Headed to Washington.”

  “Got a girl there?” She regretted the words once they were out. He didn’t belong to her.

  “I’m going to pay Bremmer Dubois a visit.”

  Her brows knitted. “Who’s he?”

  “A low-life who shot my grandma while holding up a store. He’s getting out of jail because of overcrowding. Or so he thinks.”

  She cringed. “So, you’re going to drive your way around the world knocking off everyone who did you wrong?”

  “It’s my life to do as I please.”

  “People do change.”

  “Not anyone I know.” He cut her off with a sharp look. “I grew up with the knowledge that you couldn’t wait around for the law to serve up justice. If you waited around for every Tom, Dick and Harry Hard-On to finish out their sentences, or get their asses behind bars, you’d find yourself an old man.”

  “You can’t go and kill everyone blindly,” she said.

  “Justice is blind. Rather than find protection, my family lost their lives at the hands of the law. They didn’t do anything wrong, but they paid dearly, and everyone who loved them paid, and continues to pay.”

  “Yes but…”

  “I’m not a good guy, understand? Whatever you’ve built up in your head about me, it’s an illusion. I know you see me as your ticket out of here, but sugar, it’s not going to happen. I ride alone and I sure as hell don’t have time for skirts. Much as I loved the feel of your body beneath me, it’s not going to lead to anything more.”

&n
bsp; “You could at least take me to the next state. I haven’t had it so easy.”

  “Oh boo hoo, you had a whore for a mother. I’m not sure how traumatized you can be when you—”

  She slapped him so hard she swore her hand cracked.

  “Fuck you! You’re an insensitive jerk who doesn’t have a clue about the real world. You’re missing the big picture if all you care about is an eye for an eye.”

  Montana bolted for the door.

  “It’s four in the morning,” he called out. “At least wait until the sun is up.”

  She whipped around. “I’m not staying here another second. You got what you wanted from me. Leave me the hell alone. Bastard. I should’ve kicked you out of the bar instead of taking you between my thighs.”

  “Gotta love the beauty of hindsight.”

  Montana slammed the door. Her body quaked. She took a few steps, turned, turned back and kept walking. There’d be no going back. No begging him for second chances. His words hurt. They stabbed her heart into tiny pieces. Not only was Lawson born a Cage, he was a rattling cage. And dangerous. The stray bullets should’ve been enough warning for her to keep away. But it seemed men made her stupid. Traits of her mother.

  The scent of rain marked the air. Thunder rumbled low in the sky. Her situation became clear. Like her mother, she’d die in this town.

  Chapter Nine

  Lawson stood at the door, one hand on the wall, shaking his head. He deserved the slap. He’d take on anyone who bad-mouthed his family. Why should she do any different? He also deserved to be standing there like an ass at four in the morning. There’d been a reason why women weren’t written into his plans. Women meant trouble. By veering from the plan, he’d asked for trouble.

  Grumbling, he paced. He wanted to go shoot some rounds into the night. Or drive like a maniac along the dirt roads. He was stuck in a nothing town with nothing to do except think about a woman. The room smelled like her—hell, he smelled like her. All bubble gum, bar and sex.

  Tired of pacing, he settled into the stiff armchair, head back, and stared at the ceiling. So he’d said the wrong thing. He didn’t owe her anything. Why should he be sorry?

  Lawson propped a foot on his knee, his lips pressed firm. He should be happy she left. And pissed off too. Then she’d leave him alone for good. The way he wanted.

  Bobbing his leg, he tried to picture the moment when he’d confront Mitchum. To his irritation, the scenario came up blank. Instead he pictured Montana. The way her eyes darkened to a deep emerald-green when he got her riled up. And he’d done that a little too well.

  Guilt seeped into his conscience.

  “Damn you, Montana.”

  He clambered to his feet and headed outside. It occurred to him that he didn’t have a clue where she lived. Seeing a light on in the diner, he sprinted over and knocked on the window. Libby gestured to the door and met him there dressed in a red housecoat, her dangly earrings swaying.

  “You’re a tad early, love. You must really like my cookin’.”

  “Sure do, but I’m here for another reason.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Pardon?”

  She nodded her chin at him. “Yer zipper, honey. To me that says yer distracted. And other than you, there ain’t nuthin’ else to be distracted by in this place than the lovely Miss Lee. Am I right?”

  Face heated, he turned away to fix the situation.

  “Uh, thanks. And yeah, I’m looking for Montana.”

  “She know yer comin’?”

  “She’ll probably tell me to get lost.”

  “Uh huh. Sweet girl. Grew up too fast. Tell you what. Since I like you, I’ll tell you how to get to her house. But you best be a gentleman with her, she ain’t had it easy.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  * * * * *

  Montana’s anger reignited at the sight of Garvey’s car in front of her trailer. Tired and sore from the long walk home, she blanched at the thought of another interrogation.

  She tiptoed to the passenger side and peeked in, surprised to find the car empty.

  Probably taking a leak.

  Before he noticed her home, she rushed inside and closed the door. Eye to the peephole, she strained to see out. Nothing moved. Satisfied, she flipped around and relaxed against the door.

  A flicker of gold drew her attention. Her body jolted as if she’d tripped a wire. A garbled scream tumbled between her gut and throat. Still wearing his badge, Garvey sat slouched on the sofa with his boots propped up on the coffee table.

  Hand to her chest, she shot arrows of fury with her glare.

  “Jesus, Garvey, what the hell are you doing here?”

  He shrugged. “Sheriff’s orders.”

  The still air inside the trailer made her mind sluggish. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, waiting for her breath to regulate. Other than a crushed beer can on the floor, nothing looked out of place.

  Arms crossed, she asked, “You have nothing better to do than snoop around my house?”

  Garvey clicked his tongue. “Ah hell, Montana, you know better than that.”

  “Do I? How’d you get inside?”

  “The door was unlocked. I was worried.”

  Her arms fell to her sides, slapping her legs. “Well, I’m fine. Now get out. I’m exhausted.”

  He leaned forward but made no attempt to leave. “Where’ve you been all night?”

  “The heat kept me up.” She wished he’d go. Her toes throbbed and she needed sleep. “I went for a walk.”

  “All night?”

  The barrage of questions provoked her annoyance. “What’s it to you? I’ll come and go as I please. This is my place.”

  His boots slid from the table to the floor. “Don’t talk to me like that, it confuses me. I wish you’d quit playing hard to get all the damn time.”

  For a moment she swore the trailer tipped. Montana pressed her palms to the door to stay steady. “You got rocks for brains? It’s not playing hard to get since I’m not interested. I’ve told you, I don’t have feelings for you, and never will. When will you listen?”

  “When you quit messing around and tell me you’ll be my wife.” His face flushed. “I know you don’t really mean what you say.”

  Again the trailer tipped. “Wait a sec, back things up. You want to know when I’ll be your wife?”

  “Yep.”

  “Tell you what. When hell freezes over, you come on back and propose.”

  He stood and his body cast a long shadow against the light. “Why you gotta be like that? I like you somethin’ fierce. It’s not right talkin’ to me the way you do.”

  “This is my house and I’ll talk the way I want.” She hoped he didn’t hear the waver in her voice.

  Garvey smiled with a mouthful of smug. “It ain’t paid for yet, so, it ain’t yours.”

  “Fuck off.”

  He pointed toward her. “There you go again.”

  Montana aimed her thumb at the door. “Out.”

  “After I have a look around.”

  She paused. Where was this going? “For what?”

  “To make sure all’s the way it should be.”

  Her lips pursed. “You being here without my permission isn’t the way it should be at all.”

  “I see that fire in yer eyes. Damn if you ain’t teasing me.”

  She blinked. Nothing she said had got through his dense brain. “I’m very serious. Go.”

  “You been seeing that stranger?”

  Montana shifted her weight. He was fishing. “There was some drifter in, had a drink or two. Why?”

  “Sheriff says he’s trouble.” He took a step toward her. “What do you have to say about that?”

  She dropped her voice. “I couldn’t care less about some stupid stranger.”

  “You sure you didn’t flirt with him?”

  Garvey continued forward, his eyes greedy.

  She stepped back and her heel hit the door. “I didn’t.”

  “You
probably shook them titties at him. No one can resist your sweet cherry pits.”

  The trailer shrank around his giant form. She wet her lips. Somehow she’d swallowed her voice.

  “Do they make you as hot as you make me?”

  A bitter taste filled her mouth. “I don’t feel anything for you.”

  He unbuckled his belt and a sick feeling rose in her stomach.

  “If you raised that skirt and pulled down those panties you’d feel something. You’d feel a lot.”

  “Please leave.”

  “I’m not ready.”

  Her eyes watered from his cigarette and beer breath against her face. “I’m asking nice.”

  “You sure are. Give me ten minutes and you’ll be glad you did.”

  She’d seen Garvey drunk, but never this forward. “Why are you acting like this?”

  “Being a nice guy don’t work, so I’m gonna take what I want.”

  Montana slid her hand to the doorknob. In the small space he’d left her, she twisted her body and went to pull open the door. Garvey’s arms wrapped tight around her waist.

  “Let go,” she cried.

  He dragged her across the room and wrestled her to the sofa. The pillows fell around her face, smothering her.

  “Garvey, don’t do this!”

  “Hush, now. You’re gonna love it. I promise.”

  Chapter Ten

  Lawson rounded the corner and stopped to rehearse his apology. Montana’s trailer sat up ahead surrounded by a mess of trees. Not what he considered safe for a young woman who lived alone. But he reminded himself that her safety didn’t concern him.

  He was headed to her door when he noticed the police car. He’d be pissed if she went behind his back and told Deputy Gutless the truth of his identity.

  Spewing obscenities, he walked away.

  A muffled scream stopped him cold. He sprinted to her door.

  “Montana?”

  On a muted sob, he kicked the door open.

  His body stiffened. Montana struggled with the deputy, her body pinned beneath him.

  “Get off her right now, asshole, and I’m not asking.”

  The deputy cocked his head. “Hey, asshole, walk away, and I’ll act like I didn’t see you.”