Montana Grit

by Ramona Flightner

  Alistair rose and began to pace. He ran a hand through his thick blackish-brown hair. “Ye dinna ken what ye ask, man. The livery is our dream. ‘Tis our legacy.”

  Cailean quelled any further utterances by Alistair with a severe glance. “How much would you offer for John to be an equal partner, for one-third interest in the livery business?”

  “Five thousand dollars.”

  Cailean’s eyes bulged, and Alistair leaned against the kitchen counter as his breath came out in a whoosh. “Don’t be daft. That’s too much,” Cailean sputtered.

  “How do ye ken ye can trust us?” Alistair asked.

  John rested his hands over his stomach. “You treat John with respect.” He nodded at Alistair. “Not once, in all the times we’ve come into town, have you acted toward him in a different manner because he’s mixed blood.” He smiled as Alistair scowled. “How that comment angers you gives me added confidence in my proposal.”

  He nodded to Cailean. “You didn’t hesitate to leave the livery, with all your animals and gear, under his care while we talked.”

  Cailean frowned. “Why would I? He’s excellent with the animals, and I trust him.”

  Jack fought a glower, a tic in his cheek heralding his frustration. “Don’t act disingenuous. You know what is said of John.” He listed the offenses one by one as he spoke. “That he’s a savage and that the townsfolk should lock up their children and womenfolk at night in case his wild inclinations emerge. That he will rob you blind given a chance. That he will rustle your cattle or horses if he’s in your vicinity.”

  Alistair snorted. “Hogwash, all of it.”

  Jack’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Because you immediately discount the rumors and fearmongering, I know John can have a good life here. He’ll be with horses, which are his true love. He can hunt and trap if he wants. I’ve taught him everything I know.”

  “If we agree—and we need time to think this over and discuss it—what does your partnership entail?” Cailean asked.

  “When I die, Barclay won’t rent the small cabin to John. I don’t know anyone in town who’ll rent to him. The landlords like my money, and some tolerate John, but few are brave enough to overcome their prejudice and face the town’s displeasure.” He looked at the MacKinnon brothers. “Yet you are brave enough to. You’ve faced the censure of this town numerous times and managed to keep the townsfolk’s esteem.”

  Alistair rubbed at his head. “Where would John live? We dinna have much space here.”

  “If a cot is in the tack room, he’ll be fine.”

  Alistair grunted with displeasure. “Maybe for the summer but no’ in winter.” He shared a long look with Cailean before addressing Jack. “Ye’ve given us a lot to consider, Renfrew.” He rose and followed Cailean and Jack to the barn. When they arrived, John murmured to a cantankerous horse they had just accepted from a passing traveler. Alistair paused as he watched John soothe the horse, half smiling as the horse nudged John’s shoulder for another pat.

  John looked up, his long black hair loose down his back. His dark brown eyes appeared black and met Alistair’s assessing gaze a moment before looking at his father. A deep sorrow, one of old grief and of loss yet to occur, shadowed his gaze. John blinked, schooling his expression, and walked to his father’s side. “We need to board our horses here a few days.” John’s deep, scratchy voice emerged haltingly as though rarely used.

  “Aye, shouldna be a problem.” Alistair watched the pair leave before he turned to look at his brother. “What do ye think?”

  Cailean sighed and pulled out a stool. “Some of what he says makes sense. We’ve seen how the townsfolk tolerate John, but few truly welcome him. The only business that accepts him without reservation is the café.” He paused a moment. “And the bakery.” He watched as his brother paced down the center aisle of the barn. “The money would be helpful.”

  “Aye, but I dinna want our only consideration to be based on money.” Alistair ran a hand through his hair. “An’ it seems an excessive amount of money.”

  Cailean nodded. “Yes, although I wonder if that’s the only way Jack can see to set aside the money for John.”

  Alistair grunted once more and sat on an empty stool. “I dinna want us to go into arrears due to me.”

  Cailean rubbed at his head. “Why should we do any less for you than we did for Sorcha or Ewan?” He watched Alistair with a challenging gaze. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Al.”

  Alistair nodded. “I’d want something formal drawn up. Even if the law doesna see it as necessary, I want there to be a written understanding between us.”

  Cailean played with a piece of hay. “You want to do this?” He looked around the livery. “You want to share what we have with another?”

  Alistair followed his brother’s gaze, over the stalls to the tack room and then to the ceiling, as though envisioning the hay stored above. “Aye. Ye ken as well as I do that we need the extra hands. We lost young Larry over a year ago to the promise of the mines in Butte, and I wouldna mind someone who has a keen understandin’ of horses.” He shook his head. “I ken we could hire a young lad to help, but it would mean more expenditures rather than a way to ease our debts. Plus more time to teach him the caring of horses.”

  Cailean twirled the hay between his fingers. “I should speak with Belle too. She has an astute sense for business.” His gaze was troubled as he looked at Alistair. “I know I should feel grateful not to go further into debt, but I worry this is too easy. That we are being duped in some way.”

  Alistair rose. “I ken what ye mean. Talk with Warren this afternoon. See what he says as well. Tomorrow we can decide what we want to do afore we speak with Jack again.”

  Alistair stood, staring at the horses in the paddock, lost in thought as he considered the offer from Jack Renfrew, barely registering when another pair of arms draped over the paddock rails. After a few moments of silence, he glanced to his right and stiffened at the sight of Leticia’s husband. “What’re ye doin’ here?”

  “Thought I’d visit the man who thought he could marry my wife.” Josiah chuckled as he followed Alistair’s gaze. “That’s a fine-looking chestnut filly you have there.”

  “Aye, although she isna mine. We’re merely carin’ for her.” He continued to look ahead although his body was tense, as though awaiting battle.

  Josiah spat to the side, a long line of chewing tobacco melting into the dirt near his feet. “Seems curious you’d know that horse isn’t yours, but you were about to steal my wife.”

  Alistair’s hands played with a piece of hay, tying it over and over again into small knots. “After nearly seven years apart, I’d think ye’d consider her free of ye, considering ye failed in yer husbandly duties to support her and yer child. It makes me wonder why ye’d finally find her now.” He tipped his head forward and to the side to stare at Josiah out of the corner of his eye. “Makes me wonder what ye’re about.”

  Josiah laughed. “You’re either brave or stupid, MacKinnon. That wife of mine nearly killed me when she left.”

  Alistair squinted as he faced his nemesis. “Was it ye that had a warrant taken out against her? Or was it the sheriff’s doing?”

  Josiah shrugged. “Does it matter who took out the warrant? I’d be more concerned she’d plot the same fate for you.” He spat into the dirt again. “No matter what she did or didn’t do to me, a warrant was merited.”

  Alistair glared at the horse and clamped his jaw. “Are ye admittin’ she didna leave ye a bluidy mess?”

  Josiah laughed. “Oh, how quickly the rumors have spread. It’s delightful to see that human nature is constant.”

  Alistair watched as the horse trotted around the paddock, answering Cailean’s call. Alistair shook his head in a subtle manner, signaling Cailean not to join him. “I have difficulty believin’ a woman such as Leticia would act in such a way.”

  “Ah, yes, the dutiful teacher with the pristine past.”

  His jeerin
g laugh caused the hair on the back of Alistair’s neck to stand on end.

  “From the moment I met her, that woman lied, cheated, stole, and beggared everyone around her. I’m surprised she kept her penchant for larceny hidden all these years.”

  Alistair shook his head, his face reddening as the mocking laugh from her husband continued. “Ye describe yerself, not Leticia.”

  “That woman is better at deception than a chameleon to make her sound virtuous. She spins more tales than anyone I’ve ever met.” He shifted as Alistair leaned on one arm and faced him. “I’m certain she’s attempted to plead her case with you. About her difficult time with her horrible husband and how she was forced to act as she did.” He squinted as Alistair met his gaze with blatant loathing.

  “If she is all ye say she is, why do ye want her back?”

  Josiah shrugged. “I have the ability to appreciate her talents. Not a gift you have as a man who clings to honor the way you do.” His derisive smile broadened as Alistair strangled the wooden rail in front of him. “Dishonor can be so much more fun.”

  Alistair spun, gripping Josiah by his nearly threadbare shirtfront. “Leave her be! She’s suffered enough from ye.”

  Josiah laughed. “She hasn’t begun to understand the meaning of the word. Not if she disobeys me.” He slapped away Alistair’s hands and stood at his full height, although he remained a few inches shorter than Alistair. “I’m coming into money soon, and we’ll leave town. My wife and I. Together.”

  “Another tall tale ye’re spinning yerself. Ye’ve no money, and ye ken it.” Alistair spit on the ground next to Josiah’s boot.

  Josiah laughed. “I’d talk to your brother.” He pulled his hat forward and straightened out his shirt. “Forget you ever met her. She isn’t worth your regard or your worry.” He spun on his heel and walked away.

  Alistair straightened, staring after Josiah as he shook with rage and battled doubts. “I will no’ believe ye,” he rasped to himself.

  “Talking to yourself again?” Cailean asked as he slipped through the rails of the paddock and stood beside his brother. “Thought you might need my help a few moments ago.”

  “I could handle him.”

  Cailean’s gaze focused on his brother. “Seems you can’t handle what he said.” He frowned. “Don’t give anything he says credence, Al.”

  Alistair heaved out a sigh. “Who am I to believe? That lying bastard? Or the conniving woman I was to marry?” He shook his head. “There is no one to believe in.”

  Cailean grabbed his brother’s shoulder. “Aye, there is. There is Leticia. You know you love her. You know you can forgive her any deceit. Just give it time, and don’t do anything rash.”

  “Do ye have any dealings with the man?” Alistair sighed at Cailean’s affronted expression. “It must be Ewan.” He nodded in the direction of the departed Josiah. “He said I should speak to my brother about money he’s about to come into.”

  “Dammit!” Cailean snapped. “If Ewan has lost money to that man …” He kicked at the post.

  “If Ewan has, we can do nothing about it now.” Alistair watched his eldest brother. “I want to talk with Ewan. Not ye.” Alistair watched as Cailean gave a reluctant nod. “I’ve earned the right.”

  Alistair stormed into the livery, kicking at a few piles of hay before moving into an empty stall that needed mucking out. He relished the opportunity for hard physical labor to clear his mind and to work off his impotent rage. Cailean had left to speak with Warren, and Alistair appreciated his time alone. After he had cleaned two stalls, he paused in the hallway and frowned. Small pieces of hay fluttered from above where the hay was stored on the upper level of the barn. He tilted his head when he realized the trap door to the stall he had just cleaned was opened.

  “I know I shut that,” he muttered. He grabbed a wooden ladder and propped it against the opening, climbing up to latch it shut. He heard a snuffling sound as he reached for the wood cover and poked his head into the upper area filled with hay. He frowned when he saw Hortence laying in a pile of hay, crying.

  He pulled himself into the loft and smiled as he met her startled gaze. “What’s the matter, Little Bug? No reason for my Bug to cry.”

  Rather than reach for him to soothe her, she curled into herself as she sobbed. He sat next to her and pulled her to his lap. “Oh, sweetheart, I hate to see ye so sad,” he murmured as he rocked her and ran a hand over her back. After a few minutes, her crying quieted.

  “I hate him!” she cried.

  “Who?” He kissed her forehead as she turned to rest her cheek against his chest.

  “The bad man who continues to bother Mama. He was at the schoolhouse today.” She shook. “He made Mama scared.”

  “Why did ye leave yer mother alone with him?” Alistair asked.

  “He makes my tummy hurt. He scares me,” she whispered. “Do you think he hurt Mama?”

  Alistair took a deep breath to calm himself as he attempted to soothe the little girl he considered his daughter. “No. He was just here. He didna hurt yer mother.”

  “Will you come with me? Mama will be very mad at me.” Hortence’s lower lip trembled.

  He brushed away strands of hair from her cheek, scrubbing away traces of tears at the same time. “Of course. An’ she’ll be so happy to find ye safe and well that she willna have time for anger.” He kissed her on the forehead again and helped her stand. He held her hand as they walked to the trap door. “How did ye get up here?”

  She flushed. “You showed me the other ladder.” She pointed to the far end of the barn where another entrance to the loft had a permanent ladder built into that wall.

  “Why did ye open this?” he asked.

  “I wanted to see you and the horses.” She flushed. “But there are no horses!”

  He chuckled at her disgruntled tone. “No’ in this stall, no.” He helped her down the ladder, pulling the trap door shut behind him. When they were in the stall, he hefted the ladder and set it aside. “Come. Brindle has missed ye. We can spare a moment for ye to say hello, and then ye must return home to see yer mother.”

  Hortence brightened at the prospect of seeing her favorite horse and grabbed at his hand to drag him down the aisle. As she clucked at the horse in the way Alistair had taught her, Leticia burst into the entrance at the opposite end of the livery.

  “Hortence!” she sobbed. When she saw her daughter well, stroking a horse, she fell to her knees.

  “Leticia,” Alistair breathed as he rushed to her. “Are ye all right?” He stroked a hand over her shoulder and pulled her close as she cried and tried to catch her breath. “Shh, … lass, Hortence is safe.”

  “I thought I’d lost her. I thought …” She shuddered as she tried to calm her panic. After a moment, she relaxed in his arms.

  “She was hidin’ in the loft. I only discovered her because I saw hay fallin’ from the trap door.” He looked over his shoulder to ensure her daughter was well, his eyes lighting with joy to see her giggle as Brindle gave her a small nudge with her large snout. “She’s terrified of yer husband.”

  Leticia eased from his arms and accepted his aid as she stood. “She’s a smart girl.” She smoothed a hand over her skirts, brushing away dirt. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your day.”

  Alistair shook his head and bit back what he would have said as Hortence ran to them.

  “Mama!” She threw herself against Leticia’s legs and hugged her around her waist. “I was bad. I’m sorry.”

  “Why did you leave the schoolyard?” Leticia ran a hand over her daughter’s head, shoulders, and back as though reassuring herself that Hortence was well and unscathed.

  “I don’t like him. He scares me, Mama,” Hortence whispered. “I knew I’d be safe here.”

  Leticia shuddered and kissed her head. “You frightened me, little one. When I couldn’t find you at the school or at the bakery …” Her voice stuttered to a stop. “Thank God, you came here and had some time with Brindle.”r />
  “She missed me!” Hortence proclaimed.

  “I’m sure she did,” her mother said.

  “’Stair told me that she did,” Hortence said as though that were all the proof she needed. “When can I call him papa? When will you be over your mad?”

  Alistair made a grunting sound and shared a long look with Leticia. “Soon, Little Bug. Soon.”

  “For now let’s get you home and cleaned up,” Leticia said. “Thank you, Alistair, for ensuring she was safe.”

  Alistair nodded and watched them leave. He gripped the doorframe to stop from running after them to walk beside Hortence. The dredges of his anger melted away as the vision he had cherished reformed.

  Chapter 10

  Leticia walked beside Hortence toward the café for dinner, pausing as Helen Jameson stepped in front of her. “I beg your pardon,” Leticia murmured as she attempted to walk around her. Helen matched each of her evasive steps, and Leticia glowered at her as she was unable to pass. “Run along to see Mr. Harold,” Leticia murmured to Hortence who skipped ahead into the nearby café. When certain Hortence had arrived safely, Leticia focused on Helen. “What do you want?”

  “For once, my mother and I have a similar goal. I’d like you to leave town. Leave Mr. MacKinnon to me. I know I will make him happy in ways you never could.”

  Leticia straightened her shoulders, her gaze becoming even more severe. “What makes you say that?”

  Helen’s cajoling smile did little to ease Leticia’s nerves. “I have never misled him. He can trust me.” She shrugged and attempted to appear nonchalant, but her fierce blush revealed her embarrassment. “Besides, men find more pleasure with women who haven’t had children. Everyone knows that.”

  Leticia laughed. “You are a child if you believe the nonsense your mother preaches.” She took a deep breath and glanced around, grateful the other townsfolk were ignoring them. “I would hope you had enough self-respect to think for yourself and to not allow your mother to misguide you with her prejudices.”