“You’ve got a mighty big grin there.”
Shifting from looking inward to outward, Garth nodded toward the buildings growing before him. “I like what I see,” he said. Truth was, what he saw as Nathan drove into the yard amazed him. If Bridgette had drawn a picture of her dream home, this would be it. There were even trees. Small ones, only a couple years old, but in time they’d grow to shade the two-story house.
“Looks like we aren’t the only ones here.” Nathan wrapped the reins around the buggy handle. “That’s Ruford’s rig. Don’t know who the saddle horse belongs to.”
The banker was there, so was another man from Colorado. Garth held his silence, watching the other potential buyer’s interest grow as all four of them explored the barn, sheds and house, which was furnished with fixtures and doodads that Garth hadn’t known a home needed.
“I’ll need to have my wife look at the property,” the other man said. Josh Gibbs was middle-aged and dressed in a suit that suggested he had the money to buy the property. “She’s arriving on the train in Cimarron tomorrow.”
“I’ll need to have my wife look at it, too,” Garth said, trying to hide the excitement building inside him. “And sell a few cows.”
“Fair enough,” the banker said. “I’ll be glad to accompany either of you back out here. Just let me know when.”
Garth nodded and walked back toward Nathan’s buggy, mentally adding up how many bank notes he still had and how many cows he’d have to sell in order to pay off the cowboys and have enough left over to live on. It would be tight. Especially not knowing how long it might be before he sold his cows, or for how much.
Nathan climbed in on the other side. “Gibbs said his wife’s family lives in Cimarron and that this house might be a bit too far away for her.”
“When did he say that?” Garth asked.
“In the house, I overheard him talking with Ruford.” Nathan set the horse and buggy in motion. “I also told Ruford we’d meet him a mile up the road.”
Garth didn’t reply; his mind was too busy. Something this important needed thought, plenty of it, and he needed to talk to Bridgette. She was the impulsive one. Not him.
Before today that was. By the time he and Nathan rolled into Dodge, Garth had far fewer bank notes in his pocket and a meeting set up with the banker to complete the mortgage tomorrow. His mind was hopping between disbelief at his hastiness and anticipation at telling Bridgette.
“Looks like something big is happening at the stockyards,” Nathan said, urging the horse into a trot. “Half the town must be there.”
“The entire town,” Garth said. People filled the open area while several were making their way up the platform. The crowd made it impossible to see exactly who. “Think they’re ready to start auctioning cattle?”
“Knight didn’t say anything about that,” Nathan said. “But it sure looks like it.”
Nathan parked the buggy as close as possible. They both climbed out and started working their way to the front of the crowd.
Garth made it all the way to the front line, where JoJo stood. Having noticed the cook, he’d kept his gaze locked on him while working his way through the crowd. “What’s happening?”
The way JoJo grinned and nodded toward the platform had a tightening happening inside Garth’s stomach, and as he turned to settle his gaze on the people lining up on the platform, his stomach fell. “What the hell is she doing up there?” he hissed to JoJo.
Bridgette wasn’t the only one. The entire platform was full of women, including Nathan’s wife and Victoria Franklin from the Dodge House. Garth’s hands balled into fists as Bridgette stepped up beside Willow from the Crystal Palace, and then he noticed who else was on the platform. “Damn,” he muttered.
The four main men from the slaughter houses were there, too, along with the women.
“You should have seen it,” JoJo said.
“I am seeing it,” Garth growled. “And I’m going to stop it. What—”
“No, you ain’t.” JoJo gripped his arm with a solid hold. “Just listen to what they have to say. It took six of them to haul that bigger fella up there.”
Garth looked at the men again, and then gawked. The slaughter house agents weren’t just sitting in chairs, they were tied in them—wearing little more than their drawers. “Is she trying to get herself arrested again?”
“Could be.”
Recognizing the sheriff’s voice, Garth’s stomach sank as he turned toward the two men standing on the other side of Nathan.
Sherriff Myers shrugged. “But I can’t arrest them all. My wife’s the one in the yellow.” Grimacing, he tilted his head toward his deputy. “Right next to Deputy Long’s wife.”
“I don’t even know what to say,” Garth admitted.
JoJo still had a hold of one arm and while jerking on it, hissed, “Hush.”
“Good afternoon!”
Garth’s teeth clenched as Bridgette’s voice carried across the crowd.
Chapter Twenty
Seeing Garth standing in the front row scared the dickens out of Bridgette. It shouldn’t. The storm on his face was exactly what she’d expected.
Filling her lungs with air, she willed her nerves to hang with her a bit longer. “Good afternoon,” she repeated. “The women of Dodge City have a few things to say today.” While waiting for the mumbles and grumbles to die down, she purposely didn’t look at Garth. Her plan, as she’d modestly called it in the beginning, had taken on a life of its own. One that had started as soon as she walked in the back door of the Crystal Palace yesterday.
Willow hadn’t been that upset about Ellen, actually, she’d been glad to hear where the girl was and that she’d be taken care of. Since Michelle was still healing, she’d taken over the kitchen duties. What Willow had been angry about were the rumors the cowboys were spreading around about this being their final cattle drive to Dodge. When Bridgette confirmed they weren’t rumors, Willow insisted something had to be done, that without the cattle trade, Dodge City would shrivel up and blow away. Bridgette had told Willow she planned on asking a few of the merchants to join her in talking to the slaughter house men and the railroad agent, but also that simply talking wouldn’t be enough. They’d put their heads together and in the end, Willow said she’d round up the slaughter house men while Bridgette rounded up the wives of merchants, including the railroad agent, Chuck Bolton’s wife.
The recipe exchange last night had gathered a few women, and the others had been recruited at church this morning.
Taking another deep breath, she said, “Dodge City is a thriving community because of the cattle trade. The season that is just starting could see more than two hundred thousand cows being sold here. That number could grow next year, and the year after, and again, for years to come. If the community allows it to!”
Mumbles and shouts filled the air.
She hadn’t practiced what to say exactly, and took advantage of how allows it to was repeated several times. “Yes! Allows it to. The men you see on this platform are trying to put a stop to it.”
“No—”
Willow stopped Howard Knight from saying more by slapping a hand over his mouth. She also waggled a finger at the other men.
“These men are from two of the slaughter houses,” Bridgette explained. “There are more men from other houses in town, but these four are leading a crusade that will not only cheat the cattle owners, it will take money out of every business owner’s pocket.” As the grumbles started again, she shouted, “But the women of this community are here to put a stop to it.”
“Paying less per head isn’t going to hurt the farmers none!” someone shouted.
Eleanor Kane stepped forward. She’d told Bridgette she had ten kids and could call them from a mile away, and used that voice while shouting into the crowd. “
How much of your grain is sold to the stockyard, Mr. Hollings? A large portion of our grain goes there. To feed the cattle brought into town for sale. Yes, I’m a farmer, not a rancher, but I have the good sense to know if cattle prices fall, if cattle sales fall, so will the price and sale of grain. It’s that simple. And if that happens, my family will have a lot less money to spend at the stores in Dodge. It’s the same for every person in this town!”
Grumbling and mumbling spread through the crowd before someone shouted, “She’s right!”
“You’re only saying that because she’s your wife!” someone else yelled.
A tall man pushed his way through the crowd. “Yes, she’s my wife, and she’s right. Every person here depends on the cattle drives to bring money into Dodge and therefore has a stake in the sale of cattle here!” Eleanor Kane’s husband kept walking toward the platform. “Look at what happened in Abilene. As soon as the cattle drives went elsewhere, the fields dried up. The town dried up. It’s barely half of what it used to be!”
“He’s right!” Abigail Myers, the sheriff’s wife, stepped forward then. “The wives, mothers, and women of this community are united here today to let everyone know the people of Dodge City will not let that happen to us! We will stand together against oppression. We will not allow any of our citizens, of our businesses, to be coerced. If these men aren’t willing to pay full price for the cattle they purchase, then we are prepared to put them on the train and ship them back to Chicago and New York!”
“In their underwear!”
That was Deputy Long’s wife Martha, and considering the young woman had been quiet up to now, Bridgette had to glance at the deputy. He was as red in the face as Garth, which caused Bridgette to tremble slightly.
“Mr.—” She had to cough slightly to make her voice loud enough to be heard over the shouts while pointing toward a man standing near Garth. “Mr. Bolton of the A.T. & S.F. has railcars ready to roll, unoptioned ones and if these buyers are willing to pay fair prices, to follow all the rules and regulations duly overseen by Mr. Ludwig Smith...” Bridgette then pointed to the nervous stockyard agent. He’d been wringing his hat in his hands ever since she’d asked him to follow them onto the platform. He also had a pocket full of her money. The money Dr. Rodgers had given her. She’d told Ludwig he was to add it to the total of Garth’s cattle sales, knowing Garth would never accept it from her. He was too proud for that. “...they may participate in the cattle auction that is set to begin immediately.”
“Might want to let them put their clothes on first!” That shout from the crowd was followed by laughter.
Bridgette glanced toward the four men. Their dignity had to be hanging on a thread. Being hauled out of the Crystal Palace by the very girls they’d spent the night with had just been the beginning. Put on display for all to see—which had been completely Willow’s idea—and forced to participate or be shipped home had to be enough to let them know they’d chosen the wrong town.
Cheers from the crowd had Bridgette turning around again, and watching as several men, led by the sheriff and Nathan Solstead, walked up the stairs and onto the platform.
Garth wasn’t among the men and she didn’t expect him to be. He was still standing in the crowd, glaring at her. She squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. If only he’d understand that she’d done this for him. But he wouldn’t. That wasn’t his way. She’d known that from the beginning and shouldn’t be disappointed.
“These women are the epitome of what Dodge City is made of,” Nathan Solstead shouted. “We can’t let our petty differences divide us or our community!”
The cheering of the crowd lasted for an extended length of time. When it died, Nathan turned to the men in the chairs. “Are you prepared to play the Dodge City way?”
The crowd erupted again when the men nodded.
Smiling, Nathan nodded toward her. “Then, as Mrs. McCain said, let the first sale of the season begin!”
While the crowd cheered, a great deal of hustle and bustle happened on the platform. Sheriff Myers and Deputy Long started herding the women off the platform in order for the other men to deal with the slaughter house agents still tied in their chairs. Bridgette was herded down the stairs along with the others and braced herself as Garth appeared.
He took a hold of her arm and pulled her a few steps aside. “Were you trying to get yourself killed?”
“No, I was getting your cattle sold so you can go back to Texas. That’s why you came to Kansas, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing.” The pain in her heart said this plan had been as flawed as her first. She’d set out to do what she wanted, help him sell his cattle, and that’s what she had to focus on. Someone shouted his name just then, and she drew a deep breath. “Go see to your cows, Garth.”
“Where are you going?”
Stretching onto her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “Home, where I belong.”
She turned around and ran toward the other women before he could stop her. All pleased by how well their plan had worked, they were gathered a short distance away from the platform, congratulating each other. They had a lot to be proud of, and excited about.
“Everyone is welcome to join us in the Dodge House,” Victoria Franklin invited over the general chaos of the men organizing the opening of the sale while purposely including Willow with a wave of her hand. “We’ll celebrate there. It’s too loud here.”
Being herded forward by the women around her, Bridgette tried to keep her gaze forward, but had to shoot one final glance over her shoulder, searching the crowded platform. Garth was easy to spot. Tall. Broad. Commanding.
Knowing she was the one walking away this time didn’t make her feel any better than she had watching him walk away. Her plan had been to show him she was capable and could create plans that worked just like he could. That she’d be fine without him. That he could go back to Texas and never have to worry about her again. The part she hadn’t considered was that she’d lost her heart to him again.
Actually, she’d lost it to him years ago, and never got it back.
* * *
Torn between selling his cattle and following Bridgette, Garth turned around and immediately found her in the group of women. The same instant, his instincts had him looking past her, to where the sunshine caught on the barrel of a gun. An agonizing, fear-filled bolt of terror shot through him like a bullet. He shouted her name, and ran across the platform. Shoving people aside, he shouted her name again. The sharp report of the gun ricocheted through the air, into his ears, and hit his heart with more pain than if the bullet had struck him.
Running down the stairs, across the dirt, horror compiled with helplessness as he watched Bridgette jerk backward. It was worse than a nightmare. He was running but couldn’t get there fast enough, couldn’t catch her as she fell to the ground.
In that instant, he went deaf, numb, and focused on nothing but getting to her side. There, he dropped to the ground. Blood already marred the blue dress he’d bought for her and as he cupped her face with both hands, a cold and excruciating darkness flooded him.
In all his years, he’d never witnessed the depth of shock or fright that filled her blue eyes.
“Garth.” Her voice cracked as she gasped. “I. Can’t. Breathe.”
He struggled to maintain control. His eyes were stinging. His heart was wrenching. “I got you, honey.” The blood was coming from just below her left shoulder and he refused to think what that meant. “I’m here.”
Tears fell from her eyes and each one of her gasps tore harder at his insides.
Her face contorted as she whispered, “I. Love. You.”
“I know, honey, I love you, too. But don’t talk. Save your breath.” He wasn’t certain if she sighed or if the gurgle he heard was her letting out her last breath. Fear and rage, a rage so
fierce he felt it to his very soul, tore his insides apart. “No! No!” He picked her up and stood. “Where’s the doctor? Where’s the damn doctor?”
“This way.”
Garth blindly followed, holding on to a thread of hope that Bridgette was still breathing. Her eyes were closed, her body limp in his arms, but with every step he took, he kept believing he could feel her breathing. She couldn’t die. Not Bridgette. Not Bridgette. She was too full of life. Of love. Of sweetness and kindness and all the things that made the world go round. He was proof of that. Without her, he was nothing more than a shell of a man, existing on anger and resentment. She made him whole. Made him feel. And love. He loved her more than anything. Always had.
“Lay her down.”
Lost inside and out, Garth barely realized he’d entered the doctor’s house, or that the man was standing over the table, waiting to examine Bridgette. Feeling more vulnerable, more scared and panicky than when he’d been a child living on the streets in New York, he said, “She’s not dead. She can’t die.”
“Just lay her on the table, son. Let me take a look-see.”
Garth didn’t want to lay her down. He didn’t want to let go of her, as if that might make her stop breathing.
“Mr. McCain,” a woman said softly. “She’ll be in good hands. Just lay her down so the doctor can examine her. You can stay right here beside her.”
He knew he wasn’t the child he’d been years ago, hadn’t been for a long time, yet, he felt as if he was only a shadow of a man. He had only ever been a shadow of man until she’d made him whole. She’d stood by him as a child and as a woman. A proud beautiful woman who he couldn’t lose. They belonged together. Through thick and thin.
Garth eased her onto the table and then took a step back so the woman could start cutting away the blood-soaked dress. When the damage to her flesh was revealed, reality returned with full force. Torn between staying beside her and learning who was responsible ravaged his insides. Staying beside her won out, as it always would.
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