Montana Grit

by Ramona Flightner

  She glanced up a side street and saw a row of elegant brick houses away from the bustle of town. Josiah tugged on her arm as she had slowed to stare at the idyllic street. Now she focused on the chaos around her. Music blared from saloon entrances, as though to entice patrons to enter. The scent of fresh baked bread wafted from a bakery, and she fought tears as she thought of Annabelle and her friendship. Women loitered outside one saloon, soliciting customers. They ignored Leticia as they cooed over Josiah and flashed their petticoats.

  After a few blocks, he turned her into a hotel whose charm had been chipped away over the years. The dark, dank foyer gave little hope that the upstairs rooms were in any better condition.

  After acquiring a room, Josiah ordered Leticia to follow him upstairs to the back of the hotel. Once inside, she let out a huff of surprise and relief that the window let in light and that the room appeared to have been recently cleaned. After setting her bag on the floor near the closet, she stood near the window.

  “You are to remain here. I will escort you to all your meals. Otherwise you are not to leave this room. If I find that you have, I will be most displeased.” He watched her as she frowned at him. “You never caused me to show you my displeasure when we were married. Don’t force me to now.” He nodded with satisfaction as she shuddered with understanding. He looked around the room and sighed. “The only reason to leave this room if I’m not here is to use the bathroom.” He relaxed when she nodded her head in understanding.

  “Where are you going?” she blurted out in a quivering breath as he turned to leave.

  “Where do you think? I’m looking for our next mark. Shouldn’t be too hard in a town like this.” He studied her a moment. “I’ll let you know when I need your help.” He shut the door behind him.

  After he left, Leticia stood rooted in place for many minutes. Finally, when she realized he wouldn’t return, she rushed to the door and locked it. Then she moved to the bureau, relieved to find water in the ewer. After a quick sponge bath and then changing out of her travel clothes, she laid on top of the bed.

  The noises filtering inside were similar to the ones from Bear Grass Springs, only magnified tenfold. Gunshots sounded; men argued, and horses whinnied. She hugged a pillow to her chest, attempting to banish thoughts of Hortence and home as she willed herself to sleep.

  Alistair sat next to Warren on the train, his gaze unfocused on the passing landscape. Rolling burnished-gold hills dipped and rose to one side of the train while, on the other, a river sparkled in the afternoon sun with mountains looming above it. After a few minutes, the train veered from the riverbank and chugged uphill, spewing a cloud of coal smoke as it made slow progress.

  The train was filled with immigrants from the East Coast and abroad, traveling to Montana to seek their fortune in mining or ranching. A couple with three children were crammed into a row of seats, their clothes travel worn. Men in rags stared out the window in a stupor at the passing scenery. A smattering of businessmen in fine suits sat along aisle seats to avoid dirtying their clothes with the coal smoke seeping in through the open windows. Most read newspapers and avoided the other occupants of the train car.

  Red velvet tufted seats for two sat next to each window with an aisle down the middle. Ornately carved wooden paneling lined the walls and ceiling while overhead lamps down the middle of the car were dormant, awaiting nightfall. Train travel remained a relatively new, and expensive, mode of transportation for most living in Montana, as the transcontinental railroad traveling through the state had just arrived in 1883.

  Warren lowered his paper. He had taken the aisle seat, and he frowned as Alistair’s white shirt had a sheen of blackened soot on it. “What is your plan once we reach Helena?”

  Alistair shook his head. “I havena really thought up a plan. I thought I’d arrive, find her, and then figure out what to do.”

  Warren snorted, incredulous. “Well, that’s no strategy. Do you expect her to divorce the man? Do you hope to marry her? Should we secure three rooms or two?”

  Alistair raised a hand to his forehead and shook his head. “I dinna ken, Warren. I dinna ken what should be done.” He raised confused, worried eyes to Warren.

  “You have to know that you need a plan more than go to Helena, get your woman, and return to Bear Grass Springs.” He raised an eyebrow as he watched Alistair with sardonic humor. “Here is what I suggest. First, when we arrive, I will secure rooms. We do not want to alert that man that you are in town, and I doubt he remembers much about me. I will make subtle inquiries while you lay low. Once we know where she is, then we can determine what we should do.” He studied Alistair a moment. “What is your ultimate goal? Do you still wish to marry her?”

  Alistair shifted in his seat and then nodded. “Aye. I want her as my wife.”

  Warren tapped his friend’s knee. “Then we’ll have to secure a divorce first. They aren’t as hard to obtain here in Montana, but they still aren’t a pleasant experience.” He met Alistair’s worried gaze. “She’ll have to speak in front of a judge, and anything she says will become public record. It will trickle back to Bear Grass Springs.”

  Alistair nodded again. “I can only give thanks we dinna have a reporter yet.”

  Warren stared at Alistair cryptically. “Our reporter should arrive by the end of summer. I imagine it will be a shock to all those in town to have their dirty laundry on the verge of exposure.” He sighed with exasperation as the train slowed to pick up a passenger. The engineers used the stop to refill the water tank for the steam engine before the train slowly lumbered into motion again.

  “’Twill be good to have a newspaper in town. If it keeps those like the Jamesons in line, I willna complain,” Alistair muttered as the train gained speed. He watched his friend curiously as Warren shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Why do ye act like that when the Jamesons are mentioned?”

  Warren shrugged. “I think you don’t understand all that Miss Jameson has suffered.”

  Alistair snorted out a laugh. “I ken a conniving little witch when I meet one.” He flushed. “She attempted to convince Leticia that I was courtin’ her. The wee fool.”

  Warren studied him. “You never were interested in Helen? Even after you were seen with her in private in the woods?”

  “Ye ken I wasna,” Alistair snapped. “An’ she trapped me in those woods!” He flushed after he spoke. “She lives in a world of fabricated half-truths and hopes for what she wants to happen. Not what will truly happen.”

  Warren chuckled. “So what I heard was true? That she ruined your favorite thinking place?” He laughed harder when Alistair speared him with a fierce glare.

  “Ye can laugh until ye’ve lost one of the few places ye sought as a quiet space for refuge.” He shook his head. “I love my family, but sometimes I need to escape them, if only for a few minutes. And then to have that wee woman there, attempting to entice me to marry her …” Alistair closed his eyes, missing the panic and flash of pain in Warren’s eyes. “I couldna escape fast enough.”

  Warren forced a chuckle. “I’d think Mrs. Jameson would prove incentive enough so that no man would ever look twice at one such as Miss Jameson.”

  Alistair opened his eyes and studied Warren. “Ye are too interested in Helen.” He smiled as Warren flushed. “I always wondered what was between ye when she stomped on yer foot and chose to dance with a miner at the Founders’ Day party last year.” He shook his head. “I’d think ye smart enough not to pine for a woman like that.”

  Warren let out a breath, barely swallowing the sound of a growl. “And what sort of woman is she?”

  Alistair studied the man he was quickly considering his friend. “A woman who isna intelligent enough to ken she should look to ye for marriage, rather than the MacKinnon brothers.”

  Warren flushed and shook his head. “You don’t understand. Helen has her reasons.”

  He chuckled. “Helen, is it? Aye, there’s always more to the story than the rest of us understand. I h
ope ye dinna pine for a woman who has no regard for ye for too long, Warren. Ye deserve better than that.”

  Warren shrugged his shoulders and stared out the window. After a few moments he changed the subject. “We are about to arrive in Helena. We are only one day behind them, but we still must find them before they move on.”

  “Aye, assumin’ he used his real name when he checked into a hotel,” Alistair whispered.

  Warren nodded. “You have the picture?”

  Alistair nodded.

  “Good. It will make my search easier.” He rose as the train slowed. After they exited the train and the station, they emerged onto the street.

  Alistair paused and took a deep breath as he was jostled by those walking past him. “I’d forgotten what it’s like in a bigger city.” He grunted as Warren laughed.

  “This is nothing. Try a city like Chicago. Or Philadelphia.” They worked their way through a throng of men who had congregated near a saloon to watch two men fight and walked to a nearby hotel. “I always stay here when I come to Helena.”

  The main floor had a large reception area at the front with royal-blue carpets and white wainscoting. The man standing behind the highly polished pine reception desk welcomed Warren as though he were an old friend. “Always a pleasure to see you, Mr. Clark.” He extracted two keys from the boxes behind him before he focused on Alistair and his less refined clothing. “As this is your first time in the hotel, sir, you will find the restaurant to the rear, a smoking room behind reception, and two parlors across the hall. The bathrooms are at the end of the upstairs hall.”

  Alistair nodded. “Ye’re too kind.” He snatched the keys from the man and turned away. He led Warren upstairs. “Puffed up bag o’ air,” he muttered.

  “You should have let him show us to our rooms,” Warren murmured around a chuckle.

  “So he could swindle us out of more coin?” Alistair made a disagreeing noise in his throat.

  Warren laughed as he pushed open his door. “God save me from thrifty Scots.”

  They walked into one of the rooms, and Alistair roamed about it. “Two rooms is an extravagance, but, once Leticia is with you, you will want a room for her.”

  Alistair watched his friend. “I hate to disappoint ye, but, when Leticia is here with me, I’ll be with her. Even if I’m sleepin’ on the floor. Until I ken she’s safe from that bastard, I willna leave her vulnerable.” He wandered to the curtained window and stared down at the street scene from Warren’s room. “What an ugly city.”

  “Most towns based on mining are.” He sighed at the racket coming from outside. “I hope we aren’t here too long.”

  Alistair’s voice was distant, as though lost in memory. “I’ve spent more time than I’d like in cities since I arrived in America. I never had a desire to see a city when I lived in Scotland. Nothing bigger than Portree, which was no’ much more than a wee town. Skye is like a dream to me now, with its lochs and glens and heather-covered fields.” He leaned his shoulder against the wall. “Bear Grass Springs was the perfect size after all that time in the large cities of New York and Chicago.” He turned and faced Warren. “Where are ye from, Warren?”

  “Philadelphia.” He met Alistair’s surprised glance. “You can rail all you want about the large cities, but they have luxuries we will never experience here in Montana. And anonymity can be a wonderful thing.”

  Alistair studied Warren as he perched on the windowsill. “I doubt a man such as yerself was anonymous. Ye had to have come from wealthy folk.”

  “My family was well-off. But, when a city is large enough, there will always be those who don’t know you.” He shook his head. “For now, all we must hope is that you remain hidden long enough for us to keep surprise on our side. Mr. Fry cannot know you are in town, or he may leave with Leticia, and we’ll never be the wiser. No stationmaster will remember their leaving, nor will he be as inclined to speak with us as we are strangers here.”

  Alistair nodded. “I understood ye in the train, Warren. I’m to remain concealed here until ye’ve determined where she is. After that I will seek her out.” He roamed the room. “I hope ye find her quickly. I hate havin’ nothin’ to do.”

  Warren laughed. “I wish I could have you do my paperwork, but that would defeat the purpose. I must review it to know if it is valid or not.” He set a bulging briefcase on the desk in the room. “For now, let me venture out to ensure they aren’t staying here. This hotel is one of the nicer ones in town, and I doubt Josiah would spend the money on such a place.”

  “I’ll be in my room when ye return,” Alistair murmured, hefting his bag as he left Warren to go snooping.

  When Alistair entered his room, he nodded with satisfaction to see that it was toward the rear of the hotel and thus marginally quieter than Warren’s room. He dropped his bag by the bureau and wandered to the window, looking out over an alleyway and rooftops of nearby buildings. A thin layer of smoke hung in the air and darkened the sky so it felt like twilight even though it was early afternoon. The summer day had a gloomy feel to it as though its bright promise was never to be met.

  He kicked off his boots, pulled out a book from his bag, and laid on the bed. After staring at the first page for ten minutes, he rested it on his stomach and glared at the ceiling. He imagined Warren scouring the city as he searched for Leticia and her husband, and Alistair’s mind shied away from envisioning any suffering Leticia had endured at the hands of her husband. Instead he took a deep breath and remembered first meeting her.

  A half smile spread as he recalled little Hortence toddling into the livery, intent on petting a horse.

  Alistair looked up at the squeal, his head cocked in the direction of that unusual sound in the livery. After a moment’s hesitation, he moved from the tack area, bursting into a run as he saw a child about to crawl into a stall with an ornery horse. Even as he reached for the girl, the horse’s hoof stamped the ground in warning. “Nae, little one,” he rasped as he tugged her into his arms. “Ye dinna meet a horse that way.”

  She turned cheerful, innocent eyes to meet his and giggled. Red hair slipped from a braid, and she bounced in his arms. “Horsey!”

  “Aye, I’ll show ye a horse,” he said as he grinned at her. He was distracted as a breathless woman with hair the color of spun gold burst into the livery. “Ye might want to keep a better eye on yer charge.”

  “My daughter,” the woman breathed, a tear leaking out. “Oh, thank you, sir, for keeping her safe.” She reached for her daughter, frowning when she clung to the man like a bur.

  Alistair chuckled. “She’s intent on seein’ a horse. Come,” he murmured, walking down the central part of the livery to a large stall. He made a clicking noise, and a brindle-colored horse whinnied, poking her head out. “This lovely lady is my horse,” Alistair said. He took hold of one of the child’s hands and held it out for the horse to snuffle, his smile widening when she giggled at the tickling feeling. “Aye, she likes ye.” Still holding her hand, he showed her how to stroke the horse’s nose and then behind its ears.

  “I want a horse, Mama!” the girl said before giggling again as the horse sneezed.

  “Oh, Hortence,” the woman whispered, meeting Alistair’s gaze with embarrassment for a moment.

  “Horses are a lot of work,” Alistair said to the toddler. “I need a helper now and then. Come visit me, and I’ll introduce ye to more of them.”

  Alistair sighed as that particular memory faded, his mind jumping from one moment to another with Leticia and Hortence. “Thank God for wee Hortence,” he muttered to himself.

  A few hours later, he jerked awake at a loud rap on the door, having fallen asleep as he dreamed about his reunion with Leticia. He groaned and rose, flinging the door open.

  Warren raised an eyebrow at his friend’s unkempt hair and sleepy eyes and shut the door behind him. “I have news.”

  Alistair froze and focused on Warren. “Aye?”

  “Seems that husband of hers is known by many n
ames. The reason no one heard of him after he disappeared is because he’s a chameleon. He perpetrates scams against innocent people, swindles them out of their money, and then leaves before he’s caught. Each town he goes to, he adopts a new name.”

  Alistair paced as Warren settled into one of two chairs in the room. “Why does he want Leticia?”

  Warren shook his head. “I’m uncertain, but many of the best scams work when there is a distraction, and many peddlers work in pairs. I imagine he used her beauty and grace to distract and legitimize himself.”

  “Where is she?” Alistair asked.

  “In a hotel a few blocks from here.” Warren jumped up and grabbed hold of Alistair before he could run out the door. “You don’t even know the name of the hotel or the room number. Stop and think, Alistair!” When he saw Alistair take a deep breath and relax his fisted hands, Warren released him.

  “I canna allow her to remain with him. He’ll hurt her spirit if nothin’ else,” Alistair whispered. “I’ve failed her for too long, Warren. I canna continue to fail her now.”

  Warren nodded. “I understand. That’s why I’m joining a high-stakes poker match in an hour where I will keep your Josiah Fry entertained. I will act as his next mark. If it goes to plan, you will have time to get her out. Don’t dawdle, as I have to hope he doesn’t remember me.”

  Alistair nodded. “I willna. She’ll be here, safe, tonight.”

  Chapter 13

  Leticia attempted to ignore the knocking on the door. However, when it turned into an unremitting pounding, she spun away from the window and opened the hotel room door a fraction. “I’m certain you have the wrong room—” Her voice trailed away as she beheld Alistair, breathing heavily, cheeks flushed, and his intent gaze zeroed in on her.