The Widow's Captive

by Lucette Nell

  “Last building on the left.” Jonah pointed at the roof peeking behind a smaller building. “Would you rather walk?”

  “Please. If you don’t mind.”

  Gathering the reins of the horses, Jonah started toward the building. Lily appeared unfazed by the cold. She skipped alongside him. Ethan followed with their horse.

  Boisterous singing and guffaws from the building across the boardinghouse pulled Adeline’s attention.

  Seth’s Saloon was painted in red, bawdy letters on the false-fronted building. Wonderful.

  The air exploded with curses, and Jonah came to an abrupt stop.

  Moments later a barrel-chested man exploded from the saloon and dropped a man in what seemed to be a pile of rags into the middle of the street. “Time to call it a night.” The bouncer brushed his hands together as if sweeping off imaginary dust. With a cursory nod at Jonah and Adeline, he turned and marched back into the saloon.

  Adeline’s spine stiffened.

  “Don.” Jonah whispered the name.

  “Don the miner?”

  He nodded.

  The man dumped in the street lifted his head. White wisps of hair brushed bony shoulders. A beard spilled down the front of his wrinkled, dirty coat like spilled milk.

  “He’s alive.” She couldn’t contain the smile that claimed her lips.

  “Yep.” He clenched his jaw.

  Don sat back on his backside. “Glad to see you alive, Sheriff.” He grinned, revealing a gap in his front teeth. He picked himself up and dusted off his clothes. Not that it helped. His drabs needed a soak and several scrubs. “You had us all worried.” He stumbled and chuckled.

  The faint odor of liquor pricked Adeline’s nose.

  “Go to bed, Don.” Jonah shook his head and resumed his route to the boardinghouse.

  “Don’t you want to talk to him?” Adeline whispered.

  “It’ll be a waste of my time. As drunk as he is, I’m surprised he recognized me.” Cold flushed Jonah’s cheeks. Could a man be attractive and adorable at the same time?

  “Who’s the missus?” Don stumbled to the fence post of the saloon and clung to it.

  “G’night, Don.” Jonah called over his shoulder.

  Retching was followed by Lily’s loud, “Eeeuw.”

  Adeline cringed as she hurried after Jonah, tightening her grip on Lily’s hand.

  11

  “I’ll give Finn a piece of my mind when I see him.” Aunt Gene handed the last cup to Jonah to dry with a shake of her head. “The fool’s forgetfulness could’ve cost you your life.”

  Jonah hung the chipped cup on the hook. The aroma of fried bacon still lingered in the air, even hours after breakfast. “If I hadn’t gone to the cabin, I wouldn’t have been there to help Mrs. Spencer.”

  “About that, what will you tell Mrs. Penman?” She pulled the chair away from the table and sat down. Her brow puckered as she brought the cup of coffee to her lips. “You were stuck in a cabin with a beautiful woman. You know how Mrs. Penman is. Since the fire, she’s been looking for a reason to show how wrong you are for sheriff. Spendin’ all that time alone with a woman might give her exactly what she’s lookin’ for.”

  Jonah worked his jaw back and forth. Mrs. Penman. Adeline’s aunt-in-law. It left a sour taste in his mouth. The moment Adeline finished nursing Jon, he was to take her to meet Mrs. Penman. “What else was I supposed to do? I’ve never seen a storm like that before. Should I have tossed survival to the wind and freeze to death because of propriety?”

  “I know nothing happened between you and Mrs. Spencer, but Mrs. Penman and her disciples won’t be having any of that.” His aunt stood and took her cup to the sink. Her hands stilled in the water as she stared out of the window. “I’ve seen her in action. She doesn’t take kindly to people she thinks were involved in a questionable act. Even if she doesn’t do anything to you, I don’t know how she’ll treat Mrs. Spencer.”

  “You’re overreacting. Mrs. Penman might show her niece-in-law grace.”

  Aunt Gene snorted. “I just want you to be prepared when she comes knocking with her flock, trying to bully you into doing something that’s against your will.”

  Adeline returned to the kitchen, and Jonah caught his breath. Her damp hair dangled over her shoulder in a thick braid. Stress and fear had left her face, and a gentle serenity had replaced them. Even her eyes held a sparkle similar to the one he’d noticed during their snowball fight. Jon was awake.

  “Oh my, can I hold the little tyke for a bit?” Aunt Gene turned.

  “Sure.” Adeline handed the baby to Jonah’s aunt.

  Aunt Gene cooed and bounced the bundle with gentle movements. “I doubt your visit with Mrs. Penman will take long. Why don’t you leave the little guy here with me?”

  Jonah doubted it too.

  Adeline shifted on her feet. “Thank you. You’ve been so kind to us.”

  Aunt Gene brushed off her comment with a wave of her hand. “You two better hurry, before the little one gets hungry.”

  Jonah removed Adeline’s cloak from the peg behind the door and held it out to her. “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better.” Smiling, she brushed her lips against Jon’s forehead.

  “Where’s Ethan and Lily?” Jonah craned his neck.

  “Still asleep.”

  “That’s wonderful. Let the poor things rest,” Aunt Gene said as she rocked sleeping Jon. “You’ve been through a terrible ordeal. Nothing rest wouldn’t fix.”

  Jonah shrugged into his duster and pulled the door open.

  Adeline stuck her gloved fists into a fur muff before she brushed passed him.

  ****

  Adeline sat on the stool before the dressing table, running a brush through her hair. The pain in her stomach hadn’t lessened since returning from Mrs. Penman hours ago.

  The woman hadn’t been happy about their arrival. She’d made no effort to hide it either. She’d treated Jonah as if he were a bug meant to be squished.

  Adeline lowered the brush and set it on the table.

  I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. Mrs. Penman’s words reverberated in Adeline’s skull. Trapped in a cabin with a stranger. I just want to warn you, dear, that people will jump to all kinds of conclusions. They always do.

  “Ma, the light’s bothering me.”

  Twisting on the stool, she smiled at Ethan. “Sorry Ethan, I’ll hurry up.” Combing her fingers through her hair one last time, Adeline made a quick braid and after blowing out the candle, crawled into bed.

  The scalding looks Mrs. Penman had fixed on Jonah stung Adeline. Several times, she had to bite her tongue to keep from leaping to her feet to defend Jonah. He’d warned her not to waste her time.

  “You OK, Ma?” The mattress dipped as Ethan turned to face her.

  “Yes. I just have a lot on my mind, button.”

  Now, all you need is another husband, someone to take care of you.

  Jonah had stiffened as the words had left her aunt-in-law’s lips.

  Adeline’s heart pinched at the thought of marrying anybody. Except Jonah.

  “Are we going to live here, forever?”

  I hope so. “Maybe.”

  Bare branches tapped against the glass pane.

  “Do you like Sheriff Hale?”

  Ethan wouldn’t be fooled at her attempt at pretending to be asleep. “I do.”

  “He likes you too.”

  “Go to sleep.” Lily snuggled closer against Adeline.

  Soon, Lily and Ethan’s snores caressed Adeline’s ears.

  ****

  Before breakfast, Ward had been collected by the marshal and would soon have a proper trial in Denver. According to the Morse telegraph from Pueblo’s sheriff, Ben Spencer had returned the stolen money shortly before they’d left Pueblo. That knowledge would offer Adeline some peace.

  Jonah’s chair squeaked as he leaned back and caught sight of Mr. Penman and Parson Leon Jacobs heading his way. Here comes trouble. He g
ripped the armrests to keep from jumping out of the window and running for the mountains.

  The duo stomped into his office. Known for his contagious smile, Parson Jacobs looked rather grim.

  Jonah couldn’t blame the man. Being dragged to the jailhouse at this hour, he probably wouldn’t be wagging his tail either.

  When Jonah had introduced Adeline to the Penmans, Mrs. Penman’s disgust had been evident. Thankfully, Aunt Gene had insisted that Adeline and the children continue to stay at the boardinghouse. If Mrs. Penman’s expression was anything to go by, she’d been the one most pleased by the arrangement.

  Jonah perched his elbows on his desk. “Morning, gentlemen. What can I do for you?”

  Melting snowflakes sprinkled Mayor Penman’s gray, bushy lamb-chop sideburns. His round shoulders were dusted with white. He rubbed mitten-covered hands together. “Sheriff Hale, your father was a good friend.” He drew away the lone chair on the opposite side of the desk and collapsed on it. A creak filled the room.

  The parson’s back remained as rigid as a pine tree. Couldn’t be comfortable standing that straight all the time.

  The mayor cleared his throat and rubbed his furrowed brow. “Your aunt and uncle were among the first folks to make Hollow Creek their home.”

  Jonah frowned.

  Parson Jacobs clutched his hands together. “What the mayor is trying to say is you’re putting him in a very uncomfortable position.”

  “My wife blames you for Mattie’s death.” Mayor Penman spluttered. “And to be honest, since that fire, Margaret has not been herself.”

  Jonah blew out his breath. Honestly, no one was the same after the fire. If only Mrs. Penman knew how much he blamed himself for what happened, how many nights he’d remained sleepless in bed, wishing he’d reached the building before it collapsed. He pinched the area between his brows in an attempt to chase away the rapidly-developing headache.

  “Now I know you’re a good man, Jonah.” Mayor Penman stood and braced his hands on the desk. He exhaled, the air from his nostrils vibrating the hairs on his upper lip. “But my wife’s got a certain influence in this town. When she starts filling the other women’s heads with her nonsense…er…ideas, everybody will be questioning your integrity. Then they’ll sway their men. Soon your position will be in jeopardy.”

  That pinch was back in Jonah’s neck with renewed vigor.

  “We’ve come with a proposition.” Parson Jacobs stepped forward, patting the mayor on his shoulder.

  Jonah stood and moved to the small table beneath the lone window where he kept a pitcher. He poured a glass of water for the mayor. He didn’t want the man to bust a blood vessel. Mrs. Penman would come after him with a pitchfork.

  The mayor gulped down the water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “We propose you marry the Widow Spencer.”

  Jonah coughed. “What?” The suggestion didn’t shock him half as much as the bolt that shot through him at the thought.

  Parson Jacobs rubbed his hands together. “That way no one can accuse you of…er… immorality or ruin the woman. And you can amend the wrongs Mrs. Penman holds against you.”

  Anger pulsated through Jonah. Immorality? Amend the wrongs Mrs. Penman holds against you? He rounded the desk and, before he could grab the parson at the collar, he jabbed his hands into his armpits. The muscle in his jaw twitched. “Ruin the woman?” He managed through gritted teeth.

  “Jonah, that’s the image my wife will create. Last night she ranted that the Lord only knows what happened in the cabin. She’s determined to force you to do what she thinks is the right thing.”

  “How would marrying Mrs. Spencer amend past wrongs?”

  He shook his head. “I gave up thirty years ago trying to understand her.”

  “You being stuck in the cabin with the widow might’ve stained her reputation. That would make it difficult for marriage prospects.” The parson’s eyebrows drooped. “She needs a man to take care of her and her young’uns. It’s not right for a woman to be alone.”

  Be ye angry, and sin not. Jonah’s temples throbbed and he massaged them. First his aunt, now these two. Mrs. Penman would be next. Then her posse. The thought of making Adeline his wife stirred him in a way little else ever had. Perhaps ever could. But did she feel the same? His aunt proclaimed how her marriage of convenience blossomed into one of love, eventually. He didn’t want eventually. What if eventually never happened? “I can’t understand people. We didn’t have a choice.”

  “You were still alone in the cabin.” Parson Jacobs jutted out his chin.

  “Mrs. Spencer was having a baby.” Did he really have to spell it out?

  Mayor Penman waved his hand dismissively. “Son, we told you what we came here for. I can only trust you’ll make the right decision.”

  12

  Jonah entered the boardinghouse through the back door and paused. Feminine laughter came from the parlor. His aunt’s. A man’s deeper chuckle followed. Where was Adeline? When the saloon owner had him summoned after a brawl got ugly moments before dinner, it was impossible for Jonah to ignore the regret he’d experienced at the probability of not seeing Adeline tonight.

  He glanced at the stove. He ought to eat and go to bed. He would’ve too, if Adeline’s gentle laughter didn’t spill over him like a spring drizzle. It wouldn’t hurt to pass the parlor and catch a glimpse of her.

  Adeline was seated by the fireplace. Despite being dressed in mourning, the softness in the way she held herself was impossible to miss. Aunt Gene was beside her.

  On the tattered sofa opposite the women, the two boarders, Joe Brown and Eustis Grayson sat. They rode into town yesterday to wait for the arrival of their mail-order brides.

  At Jonah’s entrance, all gazes turned to him.

  Adeline smiled.

  “I left your dinner in the oven, honey,” Aunt Gene said.

  “Sheriff Hale, I had no idea you stayed at the boardinghouse,” Joe Brown, the man with the bushy mustache, said.

  “Food’s too good for me to live anywhere else.” Now would be a good time not to stare at Adeline, though.

  “Best food I’ve had since my momma’s cookin’.” Grayson stood, sauntered over to the doorway, and leaned against the wall. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand and reached into his coat. He pulled out a battered metal flask, lifted it in a feigned salute, and held it to his cracked lips for a long, slow swig. The smell of cheap corn whiskey pinched Jonah’s nostrils.

  “I hope you enjoy your stay in Hollow Creek, Mrs. Spencer.” Brown shifted on the seat. “Mighty fine town this is.”

  “I’m sure I will.” She smoothed her palms down her skirt.

  “Why don’t you take a seat, Sheriff?” Grayson whipped his weathered duster aside in one smooth movement. A double click sounded, and Grayson had weapons aimed at Jonah and Aunt Gene. “We don’t want any trouble. Put your hands where I can see them.”

  Jonah leveled his hands with his shoulders. Just what he needed. He hadn’t even suspected Aunt Gene’s two guests of being anything other than regular folks traveling through.

  “You too, lady.” Grayson waved the barrel at Adeline.

  She obeyed.

  “Get up and stand in the corner.” Brown motioned to Aunt Gene.

  “What are you doing?” Her paper-thin voice sliced through the silence.

  “As long as you folks cooperate, no one will get hurt.” Brown stood and paced over to Adeline and Aunt Gene. He plucked Aunt Gene up and shoved her toward the corner. “Behave yourself. One word and you’ll be sorry.”

  Aunt Gene’s jaw hardened.

  “And you can drop your gun on the floor, Sheriff.” Brown waved his gun at Jonah.

  Adeline lost another layer of color.

  “Do it.” Grayson poked his gun into his ribs.

  Sweat trickled down Jonah’s spine as he drew his gun with careful movements. He hunched to the floor and left the weapon on the scratched surface. Straightening, he kept
his hands in line with his shoulder. Lord, please help us.

  “Now, kick it my way. Nice and slow.” Grayson took another swig from the flask and smacked his lips. The gun slid across the distance and Grayson stopped it by putting his foot on it.

  “What do you want?” Jonah snarled.

  “Our money. We’re here to collect.” Brown pulled Adeline to her feet. Her gasp might as well have been a cry.

  “Money?” Aunt Gene frowned.

  “The money Ward hid in that little church. We came to collect our share.”

  “I got a telegraph in my office. The money was returned to the sheriff of Pueblo.” A muscle in Jonah’s jaw jumped.

  Brown cursed. He yanked Adeline against him. “Now that’s just awful news, ain’t it, Eustis?”

  Grayson shook his head in mock horror. “Just awful.”

  “Let Mrs. Spencer go.” Jonah’s gaze shifted from the one outlaw to the other.

  Adeline yelped as Brown grabbed a fistful of her hair. She tried to twist away, but stumbled and smashed against his barrel chest.

  Upstairs, Jon released a heart-wrenching wail.

  “My baby’s awake. Please, I need to go fetch him.”

  “You can see to him after we get our money.” Brown cleared his throat and spat phlegm on the floor.

  Adeline’s brow furrowed. “He’s hungry.”

  “What a pity,” Brown said.

  “She doesn’t have your money.”

  “Shut up, Sheriff.” Grayson burrowed the barrel of the gun into Jonah’s ribs.

  “I don’t have the money.”

  “Too bad. Maybe we can get a couple of hundred dollars for you and the brat. Heard Mexicans are payin’ a pretty penny for American women these days.”

  Before Jonah could respond, Aunt Gene whacked Brown over the head with the fire poker. He howled in pain and crumbled to the floor.

  Grayson swung around, gun aimed at Aunt Gene, curses gushing from his lips.

  Jonah leaped forward, and plunged his shoulder into Grayson’s midsection. The two tumbled to the floor and the boards vibrated beneath their fall.

  The pain that sliced through Jonah’s shoulder dulled the moment the shot rang out. His gaze connected with Adeline.