Running From Forever

by Cat Cahill

  He’d told himself she’d used him as a passing fancy, until the novelty of working on the frontier wore off for her. That she was like his mother, concerned only for her own comfort. But it wasn’t true, and he knew this, deep down. Those were only things he’d told himself to hide his own hurt, to push her memory away so he could move on with his life. So he could face years in prison, or death, without her ghost haunting him.

  “I . . .” He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, each of her friends was looking at him, waiting. “I love her.”

  Miss May smiled in triumph, and the other two girls followed suit.

  He shifted uncomfortably before forcing his mind to work toward the practical instead of dwelling on what he’d just admitted. “But I can’t get out of here. I’m due to a judge in Denver for—” He cut himself off. He didn’t know how much Caroline had told Miss May of his past.

  But Miss May let her hands fall to her sides and stepped forward. “Caroline told me your story. If she believes you, then I do too, despite what I might have said to you before. I was simply looking out for my friend’s heart, and I thought you were nothing more than a rake.”

  Thomas wasn’t entirely certain what to say to that. “Thank you, I suppose.”

  “Perhaps if we spoke to Caroline again?” the redhead in the yellow dress said. “If we told her what you said . . . if that’s all right with you, sir, I mean. Maybe she’d agree to come see you.”

  Thomas rubbed his face with his hand, hoping to erase any sign of embarrassment. “Anything to keep her from leaving with her brother. You can tell her I’m on my deathbed, if that’s what it takes.”

  Miss May gave him another smile, and he had the feeling he’d just won her hard-earned approval.

  “We’ve already delayed poor Mr. McFarland,” the quieter girl said.

  Miss May waved her hand. “He’ll wait longer. It’s not as if he’ll leave us here.”

  “You’re right,” the girl in the yellow dress said. “Let’s hurry.”

  Miss May placed a hand against the bars. “We’ll return, with Caroline. I promise.”

  “Just don’t let her leave town,” he said. He watched them retreat. He’d gladly face the noose if he could keep Caroline safe. And tell her he loved her.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  “I believe I don’t feel well at all.” Caroline placed a hand to her cheek as she spoke.

  The men across the table all looked concerned. Perhaps she could consider a life on the stage.

  “I’ll escort you upstairs.” Quentin rose and placed his napkin on the table. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I’ll return as soon as I see my sister safely to our rooms.”

  The men all stood to murmur their good nights and well wishes, and in seconds, Quentin had his arm through Caroline’s. He walked her a bit faster than was necessary through the dining room and up the hotel stairs.

  “I’m sorry to be a bother,” she said. “I know you need to speak with them about business.”

  “You’re no bother,” he said. They stopped outside their second floor door as he fished for the key in his pocket. The door unlocked with a click, and he pushed it open. “Get some rest, and perhaps you’ll feel better in the morning.”

  She nodded and took a step inside.

  Quentin placed a hand on the door. “I’m happy you’ve come to realize this nonsense of being a waitress is just that. The family will be overjoyed you’re returning to us. We’ve all missed you greatly.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss on her head before giving her a smile and closing the door.

  Caroline stood there for a moment as his footsteps retreated, a hand to her heart. Her brother wasn’t a terrible person. He truly believed the rumors about Mr. Wiltshire were just that—rumors. He wanted the best for her, and in his short-sighted Boston way, he believed the best was marriage to a successful man with a good name.

  And for a while, Caroline had forced herself to believe the same, even as she pushed the waves of fear for her very life aside. But seeing that ring had been akin to being struck by lightning.

  A life in Boston was not what she wanted, Wiltshire or not. She wanted to live, she wanted to feel useful, and she wanted to be happy. And working at the Crest Stone had made her happy. Being with Thomas had exceeded her wildest dreams.

  And now she had the proof he needed to save his life.

  She didn’t know what to do about the contract or the fear that Thomas’s life could be in danger if Mr. Wiltshire found out about him. But she didn’t have time to ponder those problems right now. Caroline rushed to her room and withdrew a pearl-colored cloak from the wardrobe. She flew out the door and down the stairs, taking care to pull up the hood before she passed the entrance to the dining room.

  Outside on the street, the temperature had dropped considerably. Caroline stood there shivering as she realized she had no idea where the jail was.

  “Caroline!”

  It couldn’t be. They were supposed to have left already. But no . . . there were her friends, approaching from the left. Caroline ran to meet them.

  “You must come with us!” Millie said, her face flushed.

  “Where?” Caroline asked, and then shook her head. “I can’t. I need to get to Thomas. I found the proof he needs.”

  “That’s where we were going to bring you!” Penny said, grabbing her arm. “He has something he needs to tell you.”

  “Wait, did you say you have proof? What sort of proof?” Dora asked as they hurried down the wooden sidewalk, past all manner of people—gentlemen, a few ladies, cowboys, miners.

  “Yes! I don’t have it with me, but I saw it. It’ll prove that Thomas is innocent of all the charges levied against him.” Caroline picked up her pace until she was nearly dragging Penny down the sidewalk. Her brother would certainly disapprove of the spectacle she was making of herself, but then again, he also wouldn’t approve of her ultimate destination.

  It wasn’t long before they reached the sheriff’s office and jail. Penny pushed the door open as if she were expected.

  Inside, a single lamp glowed in the darkness, illuminating a desk covered in papers and a pair of boots. The boots were attached to legs that belonged to a man Caroline presumed was a sheriff’s deputy. He was fast asleep.

  Penny shook her head. “Let’s go. We know where he is.” She led the way across the long and narrow room to the rear of the building, where she pushed open another door.

  This next room was lined with several jail cells. A few lamps hung from the walls, and Penny strode through their flickering light to the last cell where a man stood against the bars.

  Thomas.

  Caroline gasped at seeing him trapped like this. His hands clenched the bars as his eyes drank her in. She stood rooted to the floor. She wanted nothing more than to run to him and entwine her fingers with his, but she’d hurt him. Badly.

  “You came,” he said, his voice rough.

  “Of course I did.” She could’ve smacked herself. There was no “of course” about it, not after what she’d said to him. “I’m . . . I’m sorry. For pushing you away so suddenly. For running.” Her friends stood behind her, and she was thankful for their presence. With them by her side, she wouldn’t run again.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Did they tell you what I said?”

  Caroline furrowed her eyebrows. “No, I don’t believe so.”

  The smile that cut across his face warmed her heart. “And you came anyway.” He held a hand out through the bars.

  Caroline’s body nearly melted in relief. He’d forgiven her. She stepped forward and grasped his hand with both of hers. “I found it,” she said softly.

  He tilted his head, questioning.

  “The proof you need.”

  “How? Where is it? What is it?” His hand tightened around hers as the questions flowed.

  “It’s your father’s ring. Remember, the one you told me about?”

  He nodded.

  “I saw it tonight, on Sheriff Raybur
n’s hand. It has initials engraved on the inside of the band—TJD. That’s it, isn’t it?”

  His eyes widened. “It is. But how could he have . . .?”

  “I don’t know. What should we do?”

  He rubbed his free hand across the scruff on his chin. “The local sheriff. Ben Young. We need to inform him.”

  “He’s at dinner with my brother and Sheriff Rayburn,” Caroline said. “How can we draw him away?”

  “An emergency,” Penny supplied. “One of us can approach him in some sort of distress and lead him here, without the others. I’ll go now.”

  She was already halfway down the aisle toward the door when Thomas spoke. “Fetch McFarland too, if you please. I have a feeling we’re going to need him.”

  Millie took Dora’s hand. “We’ll do that.”

  Caroline squeezed Thomas’s hand. “I don’t want to leave you, but I want to ensure this all goes as planned. I’ll follow Penny and keep my distance.”

  “But your brother . . . ?”

  “I won’t let him see me.”

  Thomas lifted her hands to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “Come back to me.”

  Caroline’s heart pounded at his touch. How had she thought she could give him up so easily? “Nothing will stop me.” She unwound her hands from Thomas’s and walked as fast as she could to the door.

  Thomas would be free tonight, and no one would get in the way of that. For once she wasn’t running away. Instead, she was running headlong toward something. And someone.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Waiting was agonizing. Thomas paced the cell back and forth. His blasted neighbor was still asleep and he’d begun to wonder if the man was ever going to wake up. To pass the time, he relived the moment when Caroline came into view and took his hand, over and over.

  She had no idea how he felt, and she’d come anyway. She was the woman he’d thought she was.

  His heart soared until he remembered he wasn’t free yet. There were still so many potential pitfalls. Rayburn could hide the ring. The sheriff could choose not to believe him, despite the evidence. The sheriff could simply refuse to come with Miss May. Caroline’s brother could spot her and refuse to let her leave their hotel room until it was time to board the train to Denver.

  He shook his head. That last one wouldn’t matter. If he was out of this cell in time, he’d beat the door down until he was with her again. They’d both owned up to their fates, and now they were changing them and—hopefully—creating a world in which they both could live unbound from their pasts.

  A commotion at the door drew him to the bars again. He squinted through the lamplight, trying to see the cause and praying it was Miss May returned with the sheriff.

  “This is utter nonsense,” a man’s voice carried down the row of cells as the door opened.

  “The girl’s had us,” another man said.

  “Sheriff, there ain’t been an escape,” the deputy’s voice echoed down the cells.

  “Please come with me. We’re almost there,” Miss May’s voice said.

  They came into view at just that moment, a parade of irritated gentlemen and an insistent young woman. Thomas took a step back. He’d expected just the local sheriff, but she’d somehow brought him along with three men he’d never seen before—and Sheriff Frank Rayburn, who stared at him coldly. The moment Rayburn turned away, Thomas glanced at the man’s left hand. There, on his little finger, was a gold band that hadn’t been there earlier, when Rayburn had arrested him and brought him here. His heart nearly stopped. Rayburn had stolen the money. Thomas didn’t know how, but that was the only way he could’ve gotten his hands on that ring, and it explained why he would’ve hidden it from Thomas.

  “Young lady, we left a perfectly good meal to aid the sheriff with preventing an escape from his jail,” an imposing man in an expensive black suit said. “However, neither of these men—” He waved his hand at Thomas and the drunk, who was, finally, awake. “—appears to be on the verge of forcing their way out from behind these bars.”

  The girl turned to Thomas, and just as he was about to speak, the door opened again and the crowd in front of his cell turned to see who it was.

  “Miss Beauchamp?” one of the men said.

  “Caroline!” A younger man with hair the color of Caroline’s pushed his way through the group. “This is no place for you. Why aren’t you resting?”

  Thomas pressed himself against the bars. Just catching a glimpse of her gave him courage. She glanced at him as she arrived. “I apologize. We didn’t mean to pull all of you away from your meal.”

  “We?” The younger man, most likely Caroline’s brother, said. His gaze swung to Caroline’s friend. “I recognize you now. You were visiting my sister earlier today. Miss . . .?”

  “May,” the girl filled in.

  Mr. Beauchamp looked at her for a moment before turning back to his sister. “Caroline, do you or Miss May care to explain why you interrupted dinner with this nonsense?”

  Caroline stepped forward just as the door opened yet again. It had to be McFarland—at least Thomas hoped it was.

  Beauchamp turned a frustrated shade of red. “And now who is this? Really, Caroline, this is ridiculous.”

  The other two girls entered the tableau in front of Thomas’s cell with McFarland. Miss May looked ready to answer Beauchamp with something distinctly impolite, but Caroline spoke first.

  “This is Mr. McFarland, the manager of the Crest Stone Hotel, and two dear friends of mine, Miss Sinclair and Miss Reynolds.” Caroline’s voice was strong, and she glanced at Thomas.

  He gave her a reassuring smile, even though his guts were twisted in a knot. Caroline turned away quickly, but not before her brother caught the look between them. His eyes narrowed slightly as he seemed finally to notice the man in the cell in front of him.

  “Gentlemen, I believe we’ve been tricked,” he said, turning toward the company gathered behind him.

  “No! No, please. I’m the one who gathered you all here. Although, sirs, I apologize. I only meant to call for the sheriff and Mr. McFarland.” Caroline gave them all a smile that had to have melted their hearts. “Mayor, gentlemen, if you’d like to return to your dinner, please do.”

  “I admit I’m curious,” one of the men said. “But, Mr. Beauchamp, I’ll let you sort this out. Perhaps we can finish our conversation another time?”

  Caroline’s brother nodded and shook the man’s hand, clearly distracted. The two men Thomas didn’t recognize retreated toward the door, leaving only the girls, McFarland, Mr. Beauchamp, and the two sheriffs.

  “Sheriff,” Caroline said to Sheriff Young. “I have evidence that this man in your jail is innocent of the charges laid against him.”

  Rayburn crossed his arms. “Miss Beauchamp, I’ve been searching for Drexel all over this territory for months. I believe you’ve been misled.”

  “I have not, sir.” She lifted her chin and gave him a look that could melt ice. If Thomas hadn’t already realized how much he loved this woman, the look she gave Rayburn now would’ve certainly done it.

  “I acted only to defend myself,” Thomas said.

  “After you stole thousands of dollars in company pay. Or have you forgotten?” Rayburn gave him a brief glance before continuing. “Gentlemen, I’m sorry for this interruption. Perhaps we should return to dinner?”

  “I’d like to hear Miss Beauchamp out,” McFarland said, his own arms crossed against the breadth of his stomach. “The girl went through an awful lot of trouble to gather us all here.”

  “It’s clear this outlaw has twisted her mind,” Rayburn said.

  “He’s done no such thing,” Caroline snapped.

  Her brother stepped forward, laying a hand on her arm. “You aren’t feeling well.”

  She threw off his arm. “I’m feeling perfectly fine, Quentin. And I’d appreciate it if you’d stop treating me as if I’m some delicate thing that will break under the slightest provocation.”
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  His eyes widened, and Thomas smothered a chuckle. Despite the gravity of the situation, seeing his Caroline put her brother in his place was quite the sight.

  “McFarland,” Beauchamp finally said, sputtering. “I don’t know what kind of establishment you’re running down there in that valley, but my sister—”

  “Your sister is a hard worker and quite trustworthy, I’ve been told,” McFarland said. “Please, Miss Beauchamp, continue.”

  “Thank you,” Caroline said. “As I was saying, Mr. Drexel here stole nothing, and he shot at the sheriff to prevent the man from shooting him, after the sheriff had attempted to steal the entire payroll. He didn’t mean to cause the man’s death.”

  Rayburn scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. He’s filled your head with lies, girl. What other pretty words did he tell you so you’d let him do as he pleased?”

  Caroline’s jaw dropped as Thomas slammed his hands against the bars. “You shut your mouth, or I—”

  “You’ll what, Drexel? What are you going to do from in there?” Rayburn sneered at him. The man was lucky Thomas couldn’t get to him.

  “How dare you imply my sister is anything less than virtuous?” Beauchamp’s face had gone bright red.

  “I suggest you apologize for impugning this good woman’s reputation,” McFarland said, an edge to his voice.

  “I would if it wasn’t likely the truth. This man’s nothing but a thief and a murderer,” Rayburn said.

  Thomas wrapped his hands around the bars, anger and frustration building as he couldn’t do a thing from inside this cell.

  “Caroline,” Beauchamp said, still tomato red, his hands clenched at his sides. “Please tell me you haven’t entertained anything from this man.”

  Caroline pushed her shoulders back and lifted her chin. “If you please, gentlemen, I’d like to continue.”

  Her brother did not look appeased, but he said nothing.

  “Your ring, Sheriff,” she said, gesturing at Rayburn’s hand. “You were kind enough to show it to me at dinner. It belongs to Mr. Drexel.”