Hannah's Gold

by Hannah's Gold (lit)

  Short of barricading Hannah and himself into her home with plenty of ammunition when McCabe came for his prize, he seemed devoid of ideas. Anyway, he wasn’t convinced Hannah would even let him do that. As a woman of principle, she’d stand by the bargain she’d made, however distasteful it might be.

  Moreover, once she knew Jacob was on his way back, all Luke’s previous hopes that perhaps her feelings for the man weren’t as fierce as she’d tried to make out, might be for nothing. Knowing Jacob also had her brother with him might reignite any desire she still had lurking for him. After twelve months left alone and living on hope, gratitude could be a mighty tough master to fight.

  “And please,” Maggie begged again, as though reading his thoughts. “Jed said not to tell Miss Hannah yet about Jacob and her brother. There’s no point in getting her hopes up high if Jed’s too late getting to them.” Her words trailed to a whisper.

  The futility was clear in her voice. Even she thought Jed’s journey would be pointless and that McCabe’s men would get to them first.

  Chapter Twenty

  Luke alternated between sitting and pacing the room as he tried to get his head round Maggie’s news. Finally, unable to stand the tension any longer, he made his way across to the mail office.

  He flung open the door. It rattled on its hinges and the glass shook in its wooden frame as he slammed it shut behind him. Two middle-aged women, standing at the counter, turned nervously at his noisy entrance. Luke couldn’t even find it in his conscience to say sorry for startling them. He strode up beside them, reached over the counter, and grabbed the postmaster by the front of his jacket. The fabric puckered into a bunch of creases around Luke’s hand and stretched tightly across the man’s back. Luke hauled him halfway across the counter.

  “I hear you haven’t been delivering some mail,” he growled into his face.

  The man’s eyes grew huge and rolled in their sockets. His face grew pale.

  “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammered.

  “Don’t lie. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Luke spat back. He pushed the man backward in disgust as he released him. The postmaster staggered for a moment before regaining his balance.

  Luke turned toward the two women who now shuffled toward the door. “Sorry, ma’am, and ma’am.” He tipped his hat to each in turn, “I don’t usually get so fired up. It’s injustice and lily-livered cowards who won’t stand up to bastards like McCabe that get me riled.” He turned back to the postmaster. “What does he pay you to give him Hannah’s mail?” he snarled.

  The man visibly trembled.

  “N-nothing,” he stuttered again. “She gets her mail. See here.” He scurried toward a wall full of pigeon holes and extricated a letter from one. “Here’s a letter from her mama back East. It’s just waiting for her to come into town to fetch it.”

  The two women had made it to the door but Luke needed them to stay. He was sorry he’d frightened them. There’d been too much of that going on round here for too long but he wanted them to hear what he had to say too. So, he indicated that they shouldn’t move any further.

  “And what about those from Jacob?”

  “Th-there hasn’t been any,” he lied lamely.

  “Or that telegraph she got from him yesterday?”

  The man’s eyes now flitted nervously from Luke to the women watching him from the door. His wife had now joined them and Luke could see a teenage girl hovering in the doorway between the office and the back room.

  “I-I don’t know what you mean,” the postmaster attempted to lie again. McCabe might put the fear of God into him but Luke could see he scared the shit out of him too.

  He reached out to grab him again but stopped midway as the man flinched and jumped back a step. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure what angered him the most: the way everyone kowtowed to McCabe or the way he now let his anger get the better of him. The way he was performing, he was no better than McCabe and his men.

  At his hesitation, the postmaster’s wife stepped forward.

  “You’re a stranger round here,” she said more calmly than her husband had spoken. Fear haunted her face but she still pressed on. “You don’t know what goes on in this town and you’ll soon forget about any injustice when you go. So, leave us alone and get out of here while you still can.”

  Five pairs of eyes fixed firmly on him and Luke could smell their fear. The girl in the doorway almost melted into the jamb. Mesmerized by yet another violent newcomer to the town, she stood and trembled.

  Luke’s voice softened. “I’m sorry,” he said, yet again. “I don’t mean to get all het up like this but can’t you see he has you all for fools? He’s cheated you out of land and money. He treats women with total disrespect.” He paused a second. “You all know what’s going to happen to Hannah, don’t you?”

  The three women exchanged nervous glances. The postmaster looked down at his feet as if it might somehow make Luke’s accusations go away.

  “You do know what he’ll do to her once he gets her up to his ranch. What he does to all women he takes up there? That he’s got a room there with all sorts of implements.” He allowed his words to sink in for a moment. “And when he’s done with them, he hands them over to his men to have their fun with them, too. And when they’ve had enough, he sends them out to one of his brothels in the big towns.”

  Maggie had filled him in on all McCabe’s sordid little secrets while he’d been trying to calm down. It had fired him up all the more.

  The women flinched at his plain talking but Luke pressed on.

  “I suppose you’re all just relieved he’s set his sights on Hannah and not your daughters. At least she’s new here and not one of your own. ” Again, he paused. “Do you have daughters?” He looked at the postmaster and his wife. “I see you do.”

  Luke nodded toward the girl still standing in the doorway. A sweet-faced redhead in the early stages of blossoming womanhood, she had tiny, budding breasts and ruby-red lips that would one day tempt young men to kiss them. The postmaster and his wife never said a word. They didn’t need to.

  The other women didn’t reply either but Luke could see from the glint of tears sparkling in their eyes that his words had hit home.

  “And what about when he’s done with Hannah? Who’s he going to turn his attention to then? Why should he just please himself with the whores he brings in from out of town when he has all he wants here?”

  The postmaster’s wife pulled their daughter protectively into her arms.

  “Get out of here,” she spat. “You’re disgusting.”

  A muscle twitched in Luke’s jaw as he ground his teeth in despair.

  What was wrong with these people?

  He took a deep breath and tipped his hat one last time.

  Furthermore, what was wrong with him? His outburst had served no purpose to anyone at all, least of all himself.

  “You deserve everything you get,” he said cruelly as he stepped back outside and straight into Ethan McCabe.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The two men glared coldly at one another.

  McCabe gave way first. A cruel smile twisted one corner of his mouth.

  “Well, well, what have we here? Still in town? I thought I made it clear yesterday we don’t welcome troublemakers.”

  “Then, maybe you should take your own advice,” Luke suggested coolly. How he’d love to put his fist into that supercilious smirk. But the four men accompanying the bastard had already encircled him, blocking any exit from the walkway.

  They all drew themselves up to their full height in order to intimidate him but Luke still stood half a head taller. Nevertheless, their mean looks showed they meant business, especially the one with the fat lip and black shiner that Jed had dealt him so effectively the day before.

  McCabe laughed carelessly at Luke’s comment. Despite the tough look Luke gave him, he appeared unconcerned, as if he had nothing to fear with so many of his own men with him. He glance
d around.

  “No brother with you? Where is he? Entertaining himself in the saloon again?” He gave his head a sight toss in that direction. It drew Luke’s attention toward the building where he saw Maggie consoling another woman. She busily folded reassuring arms around her weeping frame. No prizes for guessing it was Lydia whom she comforted.

  He turned his attention back to McCabe and paused for a moment. He knew his next comment must be a positive one concerning Jed. McCabe obviously wasn’t aware he’d ridden off during the night to stop his men from killing Jacob and Hannah’s brother. However, one of McCabe’s men, the one with the fat lip, beat him to it.

  “Maybe if we rough him up a bit, he might come over to help him out again.” He drew his gun and stroked it lovingly. “It’d give me real pleasure to deal with him permanently this time.”

  “Then you’ll have to wait a long time,” Luke retorted. “He’s up at the ranch helping Hannah out with a few chores.” He lied so perfectly even he believed his brother was doing just that, and not risking his life for a man he didn’t even know.

  McCabe raised an interested eyebrow.

  “As long as that’s all he’s doing,” he smirked. His steely eyes glowered at Luke. “I’ve got a deal with that little lady that’s ready to mature.”

  He bit off the end of a cigar and spat it onto the ground.

  “So I believe,” Luke replied. His icy stare matched McCabe’s. Like two predators locking horns, neither would give way.

  McCabe’s eyes darkened. “I hope you’re not thinking of doing something you might regret,” he said.

  “Like?” Luke taunted.

  “Like encourage her to back out of our bargain. After all, it’s been done all legal-like.”

  “As if legalities bother you,” Luke sneered.

  McCabe struck a match on the heel of his boot and lit his cigar. He flicked the stick to the dusty street. It hissed for a moment before fizzling out. He looked back at Luke.

  “I hope you’re not slandering my good name.” He grinned maliciously. He followed it up with an almost imperceptible nod, as he gave a silent order to the men flanking Luke’s sides.

  They moved so quickly, Luke didn’t have time to react. They pinned his arms behind him but, as he struggled to escape their tight grip, they kicked his legs from under him, too. He staggered for a moment in a useless attempt to remain upright but there were too many of them. They kicked again, and, despite every bit of resistance he could muster, he was totally at their mercy.

  The two cowboys twisted his arms high up behind his back. His shoulders felt almost ripped from their sockets. McCabe’s other two cronies took great delight in raining blows to his face, and pummeling his chest and belly with their fists and feet. The breath whooshed out of his body, all wind knocked out of him. Finally, battered and bloodied, he was forced to his knees in front of McCabe.

  The man bent forward, pushing his face into Luke’s bloody one. He blew a cloud of cigar smoke at him. Luke coughed and tried to turn away. One of the cowboys caught his face in one hand. His fingers and thumb pressed so hard, Luke’s teeth bit into his inner cheeks. The man twisted it round until Luke faced his boss, who now gave him the benefit of his advice.

  “Now, see here. Because I’m a generous man, I’m giving you and your brother one last warning. Get out of my town and leave things that don’t concern you well alone. That way you might just get to live.”

  He smiled and straightened. Sucking on his cigar once again, he gave his men another silent nod. As he strode off, they each dealt Luke once last kick and pushed him off the boardwalk. Luke collapsed, landing face down on the dusty street.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Unable to move, Luke lay in the dirt for several minutes. His breath rasped in his throat. It came in short, sharp bursts as he tried to suck in air and ease the pain searing through his body. He felt as though someone had stuck a knife through his ribs and the resulting lack of oxygen made him lightheaded. His fingers and toes tingled and he felt sick, although he doubted he even had the strength to vomit. His head spun and a carousel of lights flashed in front of his eyes. It looked like he’d not been so clever after all, telling them Jed was up at the ranch with Hannah.

  The street remained deserted, just as it had the previous day when he and Jed had gone to Hannah’s aid. With no one prepared to help her then, they definitely kept a low profile over him now. He’d been stupid to think they’d rally round to help her over her deal with McCabe. If the postmaster and his wife were anything to go by, none of them would lift a finger to help even themselves.

  “Luke, Luke, are you all right?”

  Maggie’s soft, Irish lilt pierced the fog that clouded his brain. Mere minutes had passed but he felt as though he’d been lying there for hours, trying desperately to inhale some precious air. As her hands touched his shoulders, he finally succeeded in sucking in that deeper, priceless breath. It brought his head back into focus.

  Pain exploded through his body as she helped him to his feet. Doubled over in agony, Luke clutched his ribs and belly. Each tiny movement took incredible effort but he finally made it up onto both legs. Leaning against her, he still towered above the plucky little lady. He was glad for her help. Maggie was the only one to show him a bit of compassion in this godforsaken town.

  “Been better,” he coughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood. He touched his jaw gingerly and moved it slowly from side to side. The inside of his mouth felt sore and full of cuts but at least his jaw wasn’t broken. “How’s your friend?” He indicated toward the saloon where one or two scared faces still peered through the windows. Still no one had stepped out onto the street. They waited for McCabe and his gang to go.

  “Not good,” Maggie said softly. Her eyes filled with tears. “He’s a no-good bastard. It’s about time someone did something about him.”

  She positioned herself beneath his armpit and supported some of his weight as he stumbled back to his horse. She stood by, watching him in concern as he struggled to climb upon it. He winced with every movement.

  “Come back with me. And bring Lydia, too,” he said quietly. “Hannah won’t mind. We’ll dig ourselves in. If no one else will make a stand against him, we will. We’ll beat him or go down fighting.”

  Maggie gave him one of those looks that, in such a short time, he had come to recognize well. She made it very clear that she thought it could only ever be the latter. The two of them weren’t enough to win a battle with McCabe and his gang.

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling wanly. “But we’ll take our chances here. He’s had his fun with us so he’ll leave us alone for a while now.”

  Luke looked down at her from his horse. He admired her spirit. He doubted she was as confident as she sounded. From what he’d learned of McCabe, almost certainly he would see fit to punish her again for coming to his aid. As they’d staggered back to his horse, he’d seen McCabe watching them. He’d looked none too pleased. Nevertheless, Maggie had raised her chin defiantly at him.

  Luke’s heart went out to her.

  “You sure?” he asked between gasps. His ribs hurt like hell.

  She gave a little smile and surreptitiously patted her waist. “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “If he comes back for me again, I’m ready for him this time. I’ll stick him with my knife before does any of those things to me again. I’ll even cut off his vile dick and shove it down his wicked throat if I get the opportunity.”

  Luke laid a comforting hand against her cheek. He could see the anger in her eyes. Yes, he really believed she would.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Luke sat naked on the bed while Hannah fussed around him. After he’d slid from his horse in a state of near collapse, she’d helped him into the warm bath that she’d just vacated. It would help to ease the pains in his muscles and to wash the blood from his body. Wrapped in just her cotton gown, she bathed his cuts and dabbed gently at his bruises.

  He’d tried to keep quiet but winced se
veral times while she helped him remove his shirt and pants. She cursed McCabe, and she apologized repeatedly for her part in Luke’s agony. Luke repeatedly told her that it wasn’t her fault, that McCabe was an evil bastard.

  The warm water had felt good as it cleansed his wounds. It stung a bit to begin with but, eventually, faded into more of a dull ache. His muscles relaxed a little and he’d lain there like a baby, letting Hannah’s hands soothe his hurting body. Huge, red swellings, where McCabe’s men had punched and kicked him, would soon turn into a myriad of colors once the bruises developed fully.

  Hannah gently dabbed a towel over his wet skin to dry him while he pressed the cold compress, which she’d given him, to his groin. One of McCabe’s bastards had dealt him a swift and final kick between his legs. Luckily for Luke, his aim hadn’t been too good. On target, it would have popped his balls.

  Despite her gentle ministrations, the breath still caught in his throat. As he sat on the bed, sharp pains seared through the sides of his chest. Hannah gently probed and prodded his body, still hot from the bath. Her cool fingers caused tiny goose bumps to stalk his flesh.

  “Sorry,” she said at his grimace, her voice trembling with anger and distress. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes. She swallowed down hard on them. “My hands are cold.”

  Luke caught them in his. He pressed them to his mouth. He didn’t care how cold her hands were. He thought them the most beautiful and most loving hands to have ever touched his body. He needed to savor the moment. After all, he wasn’t sure how many more intimate times like these he would share with her. He just wished it was in better circumstances. It was the first time he’d ever sustained such a going over. Usually, he and Jed could avoid such situations but, when they couldn’t, they always had each other for support.

  He brushed his lips tenderly over her slender fingers as she raised her eyes to his. He all but drowned in her soft gaze. He thought them the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen. His heart rolled around his chest like a ball of tumbleweed, searching for a place to settle. She looked a little shy and awkward but she still managed to give him a little smile as she caught a corner of her mouth between her teeth. Pink and luscious, with a perfect Cupid’s bow, they beckoned for him to kiss her. The memory of their earlier kisses sent a frisson of electrical impulses along his lips.