Deadlier Than the Rest

by Shirleen Davies

  “What are you doing in here?” the old man said pointing the weapon at Connor.

  “Just getting out of the rain, nothing more.”

  “Well ain’t you ever heard of being invited?”

  “We knocked but no one answered. We’ll get going now that we’ve had a chance to dry off,” Connor said and moved to grab his coat.

  “Stay right there, young man. That’s a miserable storm and getting worse. If you ain’t from here, you’ll just get lost.” The man’s voice was rough, raspy, but not as harsh as when he’d first entered the cabin. He still hadn’t lowered the gun. “What do you want out here?”

  “We’re looking for Jeremiah Moser’s farm. You know him?” Fred asked, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

  “Yep. What you want him for?”

  “One of the women on the farm may be a relative of someone we know. Just want to check it out, see if it’s true.” This time Fred stood and moved to the stove, trying to find the warmth he sought.

  “You’re not deputies are you? I don’t hold with what some of the Mormons do, but I don’t hold with arresting the men either.” He glared at the three.

  “No, sir. Just trying to find the woman, that’s all.” Connor sat back down and watched the old man. He rested his hand on the butt of his pistol even though he saw little danger from the cabin owner.

  “Well, Jeremiah is a different sort, that’s for sure.” The old man twisted around and placed the shotgun against the wall before shaking out of his heavy coat. “Don’t like visitors, and likes lawmen even less. You best be prepared.”

  The old man sauntered toward the stove, picked up the kettle, and poured hot water into an old, dented coffee pot. He set the pot back on the stove to let it boil while he pulled four tin cups from their hooks, then turned toward the others.

  “I’m Homer Erickson. Why don’t you tell me who you are?”

  All three introduced themselves.

  “I knew a MacLaren years ago. Lived in the Arizona territory somewhere. Stuart I think his name was.”

  “My uncle, Stuart MacLaren,” Connor said.

  Homer shook his head. “Don’t remember much about him, just that he was building himself a cattle ranch.”

  “My cousins and brother work it now. I’m hoping to join them when this trip is over.”

  When the coffee was ready he filled each cup and handed them out, finally taking a seat in an old rocking chair.

  “Why would you want to see Moser anyway? He don’t seem like the type to get social calls. Might be easier to just wander up that way and look around. Maybe you’ll see the woman you’re after.” Homer sat back in the chair and rocked.

  Connor looked at the others. “We’ve been thinking the same thing, Mr. Erickson. We don’t want to disturb the man if the woman we’re trying to find isn’t there.”

  “He ain’t there now anyway. Took off earlier today for one of those meetings he’s always going to. He stopped here to fix a wheel that was acting up. Had a couple of the women with him. Doesn’t usually come back for a day or two but then he stays put for a while. Might have better luck in a few days. Anyway, his road washes out in heavy rains. Don’t expect you can get back there until late tomorrow or the next day with this weather.”

  “What road do we take?”

  “You’re at it. Just behind the barn is his road. You’ll see it when the storm moves out.”

  Homer stood and set his cup down on a wooden table. “I’m for sleep. You’re welcome to bed down on the floor or the stable, but it appears mighty crowded already.” Another crack of thunder shook the cabin. “’Course, you can always head back to Salt Lake tonight, but I wouldn’t advise it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “We’ll meet at dawn tomorrow and ride back,” Connor told Fred and Roy as they rode through Salt Lake. “With luck we’ll catch everyone at the farm.”

  They’d decided to stay over in Homer’s cabin, leaving for town as soon as the storm had passed the next day. As Homer had predicted, Moser’s road was washed out. They found the road to Salt Lake almost impassable in some stretches, leaving one deserted wagon stuck in mud a foot deep.

  The three traveled to the other side of town, stopping to grab their mid-day meal at Jasper’s. When Connor walked in, the first person he spotted was Grace, delivering plates of food to a hungry family. He didn’t even slow his stride, but stormed toward her, grabbing an arm and pulling her back to the kitchen. Connor spun her toward him, his anger evident in the set of his face and narrowed eyes.

  “What the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at Ruth’s, not putting yourself right where Proctor and his men know where to find you.”

  Grace tried to yank her arm free, but Connor’s grip was too strong. “Let go of me,” she snapped. “You have no right to come in here and tell me what I should or shouldn’t be doing.”

  If anything, his grip tightened a little, his anger not subsiding at all. “I have every right to do what I can to keep you safe, alive. Those men are here for me, but make no mistake, they’ll do whatever it takes to learn my whereabouts. That includes hurting you, and possibly Ruth.” His rage had lessened, his voice settling into a low growl.

  Indignation seeped from Grace’s face as Connor spoke. She knew he’d be angry if he found her at the restaurant, but she needed the money to help free Meggie, and Jasper needed the assistance. She raised her chin and glared up at him. “I need to make my own decisions, not rely on you or any man to protect me. Now, let go of me.” She pulled free and pushed past him.

  He made no move to stop her. She was right, it wasn’t his decision to make, even though he wished it otherwise. Grace was a stubborn woman, which was a good trait and a bad one. That obstinate streak could get her killed as well as others. Connor wasn’t her guardian angel, just a man who didn’t want her hurt or killed on account of him.

  Connor strode through the kitchen and out the front entrance.

  “He’s right, you know.” Jasper was drying the dishes Grace washed after the dinner crowd left. “I knew something was going on but, if what he says is true, you should leave and not come back until he’s taken care of the men who hunt him.”

  Grace’s head swung around. “How’d you know about that?”

  “I haven’t lived this long and not learned a few things, Gracie. I knew something wasn’t right the moment Connor told me you were sick and staying with friends. The only friends you have are Ruth and me, so that narrowed it down a bit.” He stacked the dishes and started on the pans. “Anyway, Ruth stopped by yesterday to let me know you wouldn’t be in today either. She told me what had happened, about the men who are after MacLaren.”

  “Why didn’t you say something when I walked in this morning?”

  “For the same reason as you. It was your decision. It may have been mule-headed, and selfish, but it was still yours to make.” He folded the towel and draped it over a hook. “Now, however, it’s not. I’m still the boss and, if you want to stay working for me, you’ll head back to Ruth’s and not come back until those men are taken care of. You hear me?”

  Grace stared at Jasper, at first not believing she’d heard him right. When his expression didn’t change or soften, she knew he meant every word. She untied her apron, wadded it into a ball, and threw it on the counter. She slid into her coat and slammed through the back door, crashing into the hard, impenetrable form of Connor MacLaren.

  ******

  Jeremiah had changed his mind, taking Nina and Ada with him to the gathering, leaving the girls with Meggie. The chance she’d been waiting for had disappeared in an instant. It had rained without a break since they’d left. The girls were in bed, asleep. It was late—the first time in hours that she’d had any time to herself.

  Meggie selected a book from Jeremiah’s shelf, brushing the container of money with her fingers in the process. She set the book down and removed the canister from the shelf, opened it, and counted the money once more. The amount hadn’t ch
anged.

  She knew the adults would be back in the morning. Her mind screamed that she should leave, take the money, and make a dash for it. The oldest girl knew how to make breakfast, take care of the other two. She’d done it before when Jeremiah had taken Nina and Meggie to town, leaving Ada with the girls.

  Within hours Ada had lost her breakfast, was burning with fever, and become delirious. The oldest, Janie, had taken over and done a wonderful job with Mary and Essie. That was almost a year ago. Meggie knew Janie could, and would, do it again. She made her decision in an instant.

  She dashed to the kitchen, canister in hand—grabbed bread, leftover meat, and some cookies—and stuffed them into an old fabric pouch. Meggie emptied the money into the pouch as well. She set the food on the table then ran up the stairs to her room. Clothes, her brush, a blanket, gloves, and a bonnet were stuffed into an old carpet bag. She reached for her coat that hung on a peg by the door and was back in the kitchen within minutes.

  Meggie grabbed the bag of food, took an old rain slicker and water skin then slipped out the back door, pulling the raincoat on as she ran. She knew the way to town, had been there many times with Jeremiah. It was close to two in the morning—dark, still raining, and the winds were gusting—but her mind was made up. She’d stay in the trees that bordered their dirt drive to Old Pioneer Road and follow it to Salt Lake. After that, well, she didn’t know. It didn’t matter, as long as she stayed hidden from Jeremiah when he came to find her, and he would try.

  The rain pounded harder, faster. She kept going, determined to never turn back, never return to a life she hadn’t chosen.

  Darkness turned to early morning. The rain had let up but the air was cold, damp, and the ground was muddy, sticky, and slippery. She’d fallen more than once. So far, her bags had been spared but her body was beginning to tire. Before long, she’d need to find a place to hide, rest, and start again.

  Meggie was a mile down Old Pioneer Road, heading south toward Salt Lake, when three riders approached from the north, heading straight toward her. She’d been in the middle of the road, trying to stay away from the muddy slopes that fell away on either side. She dashed to one side, attempting to hide behind a large bush on the edge of the road. Just as she slowed to reach for a branch, her feet gave way and propelled her several yards down the slope. She screamed as her body rolled into a stand of dense, prickly, shrubs then stopped.

  She squirmed as far within the menacing bushes as possible before hearing riders pull up and stop their horses at the point where she’d slipped.

  “Did you hear something?” Connor asked Roy and Fred who’d reined up beside him.

  “Like what?” Fred asked.

  “I thought I heard a scream. Sounded like a woman.” Connor looked around once more but saw nothing. He sat a few more minutes, listening. “Guess it was nothing. Let’s go.”

  Meggie lay still, hearing the voices but not making out what the men had said. She stayed in her hiding place several more minutes, until she was certain the riders had left, then clawed her way up the slope. Her body ached, her feet hurt, and she felt dizzy from the fall. No matter. She had to keep going on her mission to put as much distance between herself and Jeremiah as possible.

  The sun began to peak through the clouds, warm rays falling on her face as she kept going south. Her legs were heavy. She hated to, but needed to stop. There was an old, abandoned shack not far up the road. She’d seen it several times on their way to town. It would be perfect.

  It took longer than Meggie remembered, but an hour later she spotted the cabin. By the time she reached the dilapidated structure her legs were giving out and she’d developed a cough, deep and hard, that burned in her chest. The door barely stood on two rusted hinges. She pushed hard and it fell to the ground, leaving an opening about two feet wide. Meggie looked around, and then dashed inside.

  She dropped her bags as another cough started in her chest, except this one went on for several moments. Her eyes began to tear and her lungs ached. She dropped to an old pallet and pulled her knees to her chest. At last, the coughing subsided but it left her aching and exhausted.

  Meggie reached into one bag to pull out her blanket, then the other bag to grab some bread and meat. She stuffed some of both in her mouth, chewed, and then opened the water bag to wash it all down. Coughs racked her body once more, causing intense pain to burn in her chest. She lay back on the filthy pallet, tucked the blanket around her, and rolled into a ball. Within minutes she drifted into a fitful sleep and dreamed of Dodge.

  Charleston, South Carolina, years before

  “Meggie, wait up,” Dodge called as he followed her deeper into the trees. They’d been riding for quite a while, looking for the perfect place to stop and eat. She pulled ahead of him, laughing as she glanced back over her shoulder.

  Every time she smiled and laughed like that the hook set a little deeper. Dodge wasn’t sure how much longer he could ignore his growing feelings for her. Meggie had become more and more important to him, almost as if she were an elixir he required each day. He found himself looking for her around the large house while she completed her chores. Mr. Holly would frown at him when he’d find an excuse to enter his study during her lessons, and Dodge was certain his longtime butler had suspicions but had yet to utter a word. He didn’t know what he was going to do but whatever it was, the decision needed to be made soon.

  He spotted her several yards ahead. She’d stopped her gelding beside a tall oak and waited, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Dodge reined beside her, slid from his horse, and strode directly to her. In one swift move he’d lifted her off the sidesaddle, slowly letting her slide down his body to stand in front of him. He moved his hands from her waist up her arms to her shoulders, clasping them with his strong hands.

  “Whatever am I going to do with you, Meggie?” His voice was unsteady, rough, foreign sounding, even to his own ears. His eyes locked with hers.

  Meggie wanted to look away, tried to look away, but found she could not. Her smile faltered then faded as he lowered his head and brushed his lips lightly over hers, once, then again, before settling on them for a slow kiss.

  She held still, not knowing what to do, her arms rigid at her side. His lips felt pleasantly soft and wonderful. Meggie knew she should push away, tell him to stop, but the words wouldn’t come.

  Dodge let go of her shoulders to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close. “Put your arms around my neck,” he whispered in her ear before claiming her lips once more.

  She moved her hands up his arms to his shoulders then around his neck, moving into him, wanting to get closer.

  His hands traveled up and down her back while his lips shifted over hers one way then another before capturing her lower lip between his teeth. He heard her sigh and felt her melt into him, straining to get closer.

  He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. His hands moved back to her shoulders, steadying her, and creating a slight distance between them.

  Dodge stared at Meggie, not sure what to say. He’d known it would come to this if he didn’t stay away from her. His pull toward her was too strong, more than anything he’d ever felt for a woman.

  “We need to go back, Meggie. Now.” He tried to make his words soft but they came out more forceful, rougher than intended. Meggie stepped back, one pace, then two before turning to grab the reins of her horse. Dodge walked over to help her up before mounting his own horse.

  He had avoided her for three days afterward, taking his meals in his room or office, and never appearing for their rides or walks. On the fourth day the butler told Meggie he’d ridden into town to see an old friend. She knew immediately what that meant—he’d returned to his former paramour.

  For Meggie, it was the most wonderful experience she’d ever known. She’d wanted him to continue and never stop—now she believed he’d been disappointed at her inexperience. It humiliated her to think he’d found her so lacking that he’d avoided her, seekin
g out another woman.

  She finished her work then went to her room, changing into night clothes, crawling beneath the covers, and trying to decide her future. She couldn’t stay with Dodge any longer. The time had come to leave.

  Hours later a noise awakened her. The room was dark except for a slip of light that came from her door as it slowly opened. She could see someone entering her room. Dodge. She stayed still, pretending to sleep as he moved to the side of her bed and stared down at her.

  She felt him sit on the edge of the bed. Dodge brushed his fingers over her forehead, moving an errant strand of hair off her face. He stroked her cheek, then placed a soft kiss on her temple, caressing her check with his lips before placing another kiss on the corner of her mouth. Meggie turned her face, allowing him to capture her lips completely.

  Dodge moved closer, placing his arms on either side of her head and lowering his lips fully to hers. His tongue traced the outside of her lips. “Open for me, Meggie,” he whispered. Her lips parted and he took control, tasting her, and deepening the kiss until he’d moved his arms around her, lifting her to him.

  He steadied her with one arm as his hand came up, stroking through the sheer fabric of her night dress. She moaned and pushed into his palm, feeling the warmth spread.

  He lifted his eyes to hers. “Meggie, if you don’t want this you need to tell me to stop.”

  Her glassy eyes searched his, knowing what he meant but not completely understanding what to expect. All she knew was that she loved him, wanted him, and had no desire to push him away. “I love you, Dodge. Please, don’t stop.”

  Her declaration washed over him. He’d known how she felt, could sense it in the way she looked and responded to him. He wasn’t certain how things would work out for them, but tonight, they belonged to each other—the rest would come in time.