by Kari Trumbo
Hugh welcomed someone just outside their cabin, and her spine let loose a pack of shivers. No one had visited except whoever had tossed that rock through the window, and any visitor could be the one watching them. She quickly dodged behind the dressing quilt she’d hung in the corner for a screen and wiggled her way into her new fitted stays and gown. It took a few minutes for her to emerge, but she had to know who was out there and what they wanted.
The window nearest where Hugh was talking was open, his rumbling voice like a beacon to her. She peered out the window, attempting to stay as hidden as possible.
“I ain’t looking to take on anyone else, Lola. No telling what’ll happen to us in the next few days. I have my orders and they don’t include you.”
“But you ain’t heard the talk in town, sugar, I have. I heard tell Ros got herself a hum-dinger of a lawyer. I used ta do all the laundry there, see, and I heard her tell him they were to arrest you as soon as you show up back in town. For kidnapping.”
A cold ache grew like a coating of ice on a window, soon she shook with it. They would arrest Hugh and leave her all alone to face the trial. She’d have no proof, no family, no chance. “I’m not going back,” she whispered to the cobwebs in the corner. Hugh spoke again and she leaned back against the window to hear more clearly.
“I can get you to the stage coach in Hill City. Take that to Deadwood. When you get there, ask for Aiden Bradly. He’ll help you find work and a place to stay. That’s the best I can do. I’ve got other business that needs attending to.”
The woman nodded and held out her hand to shake like a man would, which Hugh did. “I thank ye. When I heard what Ros said, I just had to come out here and tell you. Hattie never done me wrong.” Her words didn’t match her face, she was hiding something and it had Hattie on edge. She searched her memories of her time at the Garter, but it was difficult, as if it all ran together. She couldn’t place this woman.
“She’s in the house if you want to go see her.” He pointed to the door. “You’ll excuse me, I’m trying to get this finished.” He nodded and didn’t wait for a reply.
The woman turned for the house and a strange feeling crept over Hattie. She should recognize the woman if she’d done the laundry. She’d lived in that awful place for almost a full year, but this woman’s face was a complete mystery. How could it be that this woman knew her well enough to risk her life to come tell them of Ros’s plan, but no matter how Hattie dug through her memories, she couldn’t remember the woman?
Hattie opened the door and tried to remember what Hugh had called the stranger, but her mind simply wouldn’t work. The woman stepped inside and looked Hattie up and down.
“Well now, ain’t you doing well for yourself? Better than all the ladies you left behind, ain’t that the truth. Your man, Roy, he had to provide another girl to take your place. For free.”
“No…” She couldn’t bear the thought of him taking advantage of anyone else. Her hands shook and something deep inside spoke insidiously in her ear. You’ll handle this news better with a drink.
Hattie shook her head and turned away.
“Yes, she’s older, though, and was much more willing than you to take on the job.”
“If they’ve replaced me, then why do they want me back? I don’t understand.” Her head pounded in her ears and a headache spiked between her eyes. Just one, you only need one. Then your head won’t hurt and you’ll remember this woman.
“To set an example. She don’t want her girls thinking too hard about cowboys on shining horses who’ll whisk them off to the hills to play house.”
Now, she couldn’t remember if this woman was cheeky by nature, but her words had turned downright insulting.
“We are not playing house. We’re waiting for the circuit judge.”
The woman cackled, throwing her head back. “There’ll never be a trial. If you come back to town, that man out there’ll be arrested and you’ll be marched right back to the Garter. But you won’t get your old room back; that was given to the new girl. You get the room in the back of the bar for leftovers too drunk to pay more than pennies.”
She clutched her sides to keep the woman from seeing the effect of her words. “Whose side are you on?” Hattie whispered, ready to send the woman back to Keystone.
A gleam lit the woman’s eyes as she pulled a metal flask from a bag she carried. Hattie’s heart pounded in her chest and her mouth could already feel the warmth flowing down her throat. It had the same look as the flask Roy had when they’d ridden the stage to Keystone. The one that started her back down the road to drowning herself in drink whenever possible. How could this woman have known her greatest weakness?
“I ain’t on your side, and I ain’t on his side, I’m on my side. Your man, Roy, is offering a reward for you. Enough that I wouldn’t have to wash no more. When he heard I was coming out to get you, he sent this as a reminder of what you’re missing.” She removed the cap and stepped forward, swiftly running it under Hattie’s nose. “And when you’re back home drowning yourself once again, you can just remember that it was Lola who put you back where you belong.” She glanced over her shoulder. “That man out there don’t need your trouble, and that’s all you are. A passel of trouble. Come back to town right now and save him getting arrested. Because if you don’t, it’ll be you that puts him there.”
Hattie couldn’t think or breathe. She stared at the flask and wanted more than anything to pull back just one drink. No one would ever know. Lola smirked and set the flask on the table then sauntered back to the bed. She sat on it, bouncing a little to test it, then laid down, pulling Hattie’s blankets and quilt over her dusty clothes and boots.
She called from the bed, “You’re pretty selfish. He’s going to jail if you don’t come back with me. Either way, you’re going back to the Garter.”
Hattie stared at the open flask and a war waged inside her. A few drinks and the remaining fogginess might clear from her mind. She might be able to remember the bits of her life she couldn’t from the last year. But, it would also make her a failure. Hugh wanted her to stay away from it and he was right. The bottle had never done her any favors. Yet that small metal bottle held her captive in its fragrant promise.
Hugh tromped closer to the house and she snatched up the flask, spun the cap tight, and slid it into one of the large pockets in her skirt. She couldn’t have him finding it just sitting there. He might think she’d snuck it in.
Hugh opened the door and strode inside, his frame filling the doorway as he paused to get a dipper of water by the door. He then stepped over to the wash basin and poured a bit of water in the bowl, splashing it over his face. A net full of butterflies took flight in her stomach and the flask weighed heavy against her leg.
His eyes lit when he saw her. “Well now. Don’t you just look pretty.”
He still wouldn’t smile, he must reserve those for very special occasions. “Where did Lola run off to?” He wiped the water from under his eyes and gazed around the cabin.
Would he notice her nerves, could he read her that well yet? “She…was tired. She’s resting.”
“In your bed? You must have been closer to her than I assumed.” Hugh frowned. “Can you come outside with me for a spell, and take a walk?”
The fluttering intensified. Did he know what was in her pocket? Could he smell it or had he seen her hide it away? He strode over to her and stood right in front of her, his penetrating eyes seeing right into her soul. His hands grazed her elbows as he reached for and captured her shoulders, sending a slight shock to her heart.
“What’s the matter, Hattie? Was seeing someone from your past too much? I’m sorry. Maybe I should’ve sent her away, but she sounded as if she genuinely cared about you.”
Hattie tried not to scoff at his words. Lola was a viper, but she had to be careful or Lola might tell Hugh too much.
He put his arm around her and the butterflies stuttered along from her stomach to land across her skin in soft prickl
es. The sweet scent of evergreen trees tickled her senses, pulling her attention from her pocket to the man next to her. He’d always smelled a little of trees and leather. He led her up a path that wove back and forth but always up, higher and higher until Hattie was sure she couldn’t possibly climb any further. But then the trees opened up and light colored rocks jutted out from the hill. Hugh easily climbed atop the shortest one and held out his hand to her. She waited for a moment, wanting to take his hand, but afraid all the same.
She looked up at him and his warm skin, touched by the sun, invited her. He waited for her hand and when she took it, they climbed the few steps up the side of the rock.
“I’m sorry it isn’t real comfortable, but it’s the only place I could think of where we’d be out in the open so no one could get close enough to hear us.”
The rock had seemed large when she’d looked up at it, but now that she sat upon it, she had to sit right next to Hugh or risk falling off. The back side of the rock was a steeper drop, if she slipped… No, thinking about slipping made her dizzy. She moved a little closer to Hugh, his strong leg next to hers provided a little comfort on the high rock.
Hugh leaned back against his hands, bracing them a few inches behind her, basking in the sun. Her hands shook and she couldn’t account for why.
He sighed deeply, as if something bothered him a great deal. “All right, Hattie. Out with it.”
Chapter Fifteen
HATTIE SAT RIGID AND stock-still next to him, her breathing uneven and shallow. The moment he’d stepped inside their cabin he’d known that he’d need to take her here to talk. Her haunted eyes and nervous movements had told him something wasn’t right with his future bride. When he walked in, her eyes were huge bright blue pools and her mouth was stuck slightly open as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, but what could be the matter? While he enjoyed seeing her surprise, this wasn’t a good one. She’d tried to hide it in the folds of her skirt, but her hands were shaking again. He hadn’t seen them do that in over a day.
She took a deep breath and faced him. Though she wouldn’t look up at him, he could see the soft profile of her cheek. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Hugh. If you want to know something, please just ask.”
Well, simple enough, he could do that. “I want to know what’s got you shaking again. I want to know about Lola sleeping in your bed and not on the couch where she belongs. And I want to know why, after I’d just got you to calm down near me, you’re looking at me like I might throw you over my shoulder, drag you to my bed, and ravage you. I’ve had plenty of opportunity, Hattie. Even after just under a week, I’d think you’d know me better by now.”
Her cheeks flamed red. He hadn’t been sure she had a blush in her anymore and it did his heart good to see it; she was healing.
Reaching for her was a temptation, but he had to settle for placing his arm just out of reach.
“I…I don’t remember her, Hugh. I wish I did. I wish I could tell you more about this woman who’s invaded our camp, but I can’t and I don’t like her. I don’t think she should be with us.”
Good. At least she was still speaking her mind. He’d thought there had been a faint whiff of drink when he’d walked into the house, but if she’d found a way to get it, she’d be back to her quiet ways. Hiding. Not open and speaking her mind to him.
“I agree with you, but at this point, I’d like to keep her close at hand. If she goes back to town now, we don’t know what she’ll tell them. I’m not fool enough to think she really came out here to help, though, it’s good to know what they’re planning. I’ll just have to wire Sam Bullock again and insist he come or send help.”
“Bullock won’t come out here just for me. I’m nothing.” She bunched her skirts into her fists then pressed the wrinkles flat.
A board came loose on the corral he’d built around his heart. “That ain’t true, Hattie. You don’t have to live that life or be that person anymore. You’ve worked so hard. Don’t give up. I won’t give up on you.” He sat up and wrapped his arm around her. With as close as she’d had to sit next to him to fit on the rock, his arm draped perfectly around her shoulders. She shrieked and scooted away from him the moment his hand touched her hip, and he drew back. Blast it! He’d pushed too far, yet again.
Hattie ran her trembling hands down her skirt once more. He picked up the hand closest to him and her other hand went for her hip, then retreated. Her blue eyes glanced up at him and set a fire somewhere deep in his gut. He had to get her back to her family and maybe get away for a while. He’d gotten too close to her, become too protective of her. If he continued, he’d scare her away for sure. He gently pressed his thumb into her palm.
“It’s okay that you don’t remember. Drink clouds your thinking and makes you do things you wouldn’t do without it. I hope there’s a lot you don’t remember about that place.”
She squinted into the sun and shaded her face with her free hand but didn’t pull away from him. “I guess that’s what’s strange. Some things I can remember clearly, as if they scared me so much they’re whittled into who I am. Other things are like looking through fog. Fuzzy, distant, like it wasn’t me that went through it at all. I know why I can’t remember some of it, but the rest, I wish…I wish I’d never met Roy Hayden.”
He let his thumb roam in a circle in the palm of her hand, trying to comfort the edge out of her voice. She shuddered in response. You need to stop now, Hugh Bradly. It doesn’t matter that she’ll be your wife tomorrow, she isn’t yours. Not now, maybe not ever. He yanked his hand from hers and rested it against the cool rock once more. That, he could handle.
She gave him a knowing glance then frowned. She knew men too well. Did she realize she was gaining a hold over him? A hold he was afraid to inspect too closely. When he’d signed on for this job, he hadn’t planned on coming home a married man. His parents waited for him in his brother Aiden’s house. But where did he fit? He’d left so quickly, he hadn’t thought about it. He, himself, had no home, no place to lay his head. What would he do with a wife?
Hattie shivered next to him and he fought the urge to move closer to her again.
“She said some terrible things to me when she came into the cabin, Hugh. She doesn’t care about me or you. She mentioned a reward. She can’t be trusted.”
He scratched his chin and let her words sink deep. Bullock had to come, that was the only way out of this. Between the watcher and his threats, and Lola, he’d had enough of everything. Getting her home would be the best way out, but how?
Hattie pushed herself to the edge of the rock and as her skirt fell against the rock face he heard a soft clink. Hattie’s face turned stark white and she glanced quickly at him, then down the side of the rock. She had something hiding in her clothes. He’d gotten closer to her lately, perhaps too close. Had she started carrying a weapon with her? Did she think she needed to defend herself against him? He never should’ve allowed himself to hold her, should’ve known she wouldn’t want that.
She jumped the few feet to the ground and clutched her skirts in her fists, rushing away as he pulled himself to the edge. He hadn’t done anything, no more than sit near her, and she ran away like a scared rabbit. He’d need to prove to his wife that he was a man she could trust. A man of his word. Maybe even a man she could love, someday. He would protect her above all else. At least until she decided to let him go, and maybe even after that.
There hadn’t been many women in his life before Hattie. He hadn’t had time while working his fingers to the bone on his father’s farm. And even more so after his little brother Peater had paid the ultimate price for serving their father. Now, the farm was gone and he was here in South Dakota, with nowhere to call his own.
He let his legs dangle from the edge of the rock, leveraging his hands to push off. A scream tore up the hill followed by the terrifying crack of a gunshot.
Chapter Sixteen
HUGH THREW HIMSELF OFF the rock and tore down the hill
toward the scream. He reached for his gun only to come up empty-handed. He’d been chopping wood before he took Hattie for their walk and he never wore his pistols when chopping. He prayed the scream wasn’t from Hattie’s lips but he knew it couldn’t be anyone else.
The trail up and down the hill hadn’t been well-marked and Hattie hadn’t followed it. He skidded to a stop, grabbing a tree to keep from falling headlong down the hill looking for signs of her path. The area was clear, without a person or animal. He reached down and grabbed the knife he’d stuck, wrapped in a leather sheath, into his sock that morning. If it was good enough for his ancestors, it was good enough for him. He’d thought of it when he’d found his da’s old scian in his gear. He hadn’t dared bring the long blade with him or it might scare Hattie, so he’d settled on a short blade, similar to a dirk, though now it seemed woefully inadequate.
He held the knife in front of him, weaving it back and forth as he took careful steps down the hill full of twigs and underbrush that would make noise if he wasn’t careful. He heard rustling and a muffled cry ahead. Hugh moved faster, throwing himself down the hill tree by tree. Whoever was ahead wasn’t listening for him.
He found Hattie smashed up against the base of a tree with some brute yanking her hands over her head. The lout was pressing himself into her. She had a gun in her hands, but it did little good with her arms in the air. The fear in her eyes enflamed an old anger he’d tamped down over the last eleven months. She pulled her head as far away from the man as she could and her gaze locked with Hugh’s. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she whipped her head to the side as the man pushed closer to her, moving in to kiss her.
Bile rose from his stomach, hot and potent. He plowed toward them, plunging his knife into the man’s hand where it was braced against the tree, pinning him in place. The man immediately loosed Hattie’s arms and he screeched in pain.
