by Kari Trumbo
“Hattie, run.” Hugh waited only a moment for her to untangle herself before he tore his knife out of the tree and prepared to defend what was his. The man howled again, cradling his hand against his chest.
“What’d you do that for? It ain’t nothing I ain’t had before.” He whined, cradling his hand to his chest.
Hugh’s anger thrust from him with more force than the knife. “Get out of here! Make no mistake, if I ever see you again, it’ll be with a gun in my hand.”
“You kilt my good hand!” He held out his quivering, dripping digits for inspection.
“I’ll do worse than that if you don’t run.” He heard the steal edge to his voice, an edge he hadn’t heard in a long time. How long had it been since he’d cared about anything enough to defend it to the death?
The man muttered to himself and staggered off through the trees. Hugh turned around to find Hattie waiting a few feet behind him. He wouldn’t go to her, not after the moment on the rock when she’d rebuffed his comfort. That would take more from her; it would assume she wanted his touch, his help and support. He held his hand out to her as he lowered himself to sheath his knife. She trembled and stared at his hand. There was a battle going on behind those crystal blue eyes. She took first one tentative step toward him, then another, finally dropping the gun to her feet and rushing at him with the force of a train. She skipped his hand altogether and flung herself at him, wrapping her arms tight around him and clutching him close. A shudder ran down the length of her. He wrapped his arms around her and tried to tell himself that he’d treat his own mam the same way. But it was a lie. His mam wouldn’t need healing and support from him, she’d go to his da. No, only Hattie had ever gone straight to him when she needed. Only Hattie.
It hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut. He held her close until she pulled away, taking a few steps back. She kept her head bowed and tucked her hands behind her back.
“I’m sorry, Hugh. What must you think of me, throwing myself at you that way.” A lock of hair had come loose from the string she’d used to tie it and she tucked it behind her ear. He’d failed her again. The pins he’d meant to get, he’d completely forgotten. He couldn’t admit that he wanted her in his arms; couldn’t admit to her that he’d been terrified a moment ago—first for her, then of her reaction to him.
“Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head but refused to look up at him. He took a step closer to her and she turned and dashed away from him again. He wanted to plant his fist in the tree but that would do neither of them any good. Why was she suddenly running from him? He followed her with his eyes until the tall spruce trees ate every glimpse of her. She’d been acting strangely even before that fool had pinned her to the tree. It had started when Lola came. If she was that bothered by the woman. He’d take his chances and send her back to town.
He picked up the discarded pistol and checked the cylinder. It was empty. How had she gotten it from that man and how had she missed at such close range? He’d have to ask her later once she calmed down. Course, with ousting Lola, then leaving to get married, she might not be good and calm for a long while.
***
Hattie closed the door behind her and leaned against it. No one would blame her for taking a drink. No one would even know. She touched the heavy flask still in her pocket. Hugh had known she was hiding something and when she’d edged to the side of the rock, it had fallen and made noise, even through all the fabric of her skirts. It had made her run, made her careless… And then… She shuddered at the memory of that man jumping out from behind the tree. He’d trapped her and pinned her shoulders to it. She’d reached for his gun, but he’d forced her arm against the trunk and pulled the trigger. She’d been sure the bullet would find its way to Hugh and, in that moment, she’d known more fear than she’d ever experienced. Not for herself, he couldn’t take more from her, but for Hugh. He was innocent and if she’d shot him, she’d have to live with that forever. She’d given up and let that man take what he wanted until she saw Hugh pounding through the trees.
Her hand slipped into her pocket. The shape of the flask was so familiar, just like Roy’s. Except, Roy had put her in this mess. Hugh had got her out. If Hugh knew it was there, he’d be so disappointed. It was shameful, the way she wanted it, but she could make herself neither take it from her pocket to dispose of it any more than she could take it out to have a drink and be done with it.
Hugh’s booted feet tromped up the worn path and she rushed from the door so he could come in; if she didn’t look busy she’d look even more foolish. She went to the stove, but there was nothing on it to stir or tend. He strode through the door and his eyes, so dark and brooding, questioned her without ever saying a word.
She couldn’t turn the flask over to him. Couldn’t admit she had it and it slammed a wall between them just as solid as the log walls of the cabin. What would he think of her? She had to get rid of it on her own, when she was ready. She could do this. It was the one thing she could do all on her own. She sucked in her breath and stood as tall as she could until she heard Lola slip out of the bed and stride over.
“Well. Glad to see you both. Let’s make a plan.” She smacked her lips and her hands together, making a loud slap and sucking sound that made Hattie cringe. She moved to the fireplace, away from Lola and the trouble she was sure to cause.
Hugh nodded and planted his feet, hands draped casually over his hips, but his glance stuck on her, warming her skin. He looked like the posters of military men she’d seen in Deadwood; handsome, strong, and ready to fight.
He cleared his throat. “Excellent idea, Lola. I’ve done some thinking, though. You’re still welcome in Keystone, so there’s no need for you to come with us. Why don’t you go back to Keystone and catch the stage from there? There’s no sense in you walking ten miles when you can go right back into town.”
Lola smiled and showed a few missing teeth. “I think you’re right, Hugh, but you’re coming with me.” She yanked a pocket derringer from her dress and pointed it at Hugh.
Lola clicked the hammer back and the sound cracked through Hattie’s skull. She’d already pictured Hugh bleeding on the ground today. Her gut twisted as she took in the situation. She had to help Hugh. The gun she’d taken from the man outside was tucked into the side of Hugh’s trousers.
“Toss that gun in your belt to the chair there. I heard you take care of my man outside. He never puts more’n one bullet in so I know it ain’t loaded.”
Hugh carefully drew the weapon and put it on the couch. Hattie wanted to rush Lola, take the gun and beat her over the head with it. How could this be happening? Had she really only had a few days of peace and now she’d have to go back to that other life? Is this what Hugh’s prayers for her had done?
Lola waved the gun at Hugh. “Now, let’s get us all to Keystone. You’ve got some people to meet and I’ve got a stage to catch with the money I get from the reward.” She shoved them out the door with the barrel of the gun. “Oh, how I love pay day.”
Chapter Seventeen
IT WAS ONLY A SHORT walk but the closer they got, the more she could hear and smell Keystone. The shops, the people, the animals, and the noise grated against her senses. Lola had tied her hands behind her as soon as they’d gotten outside the cabin, making her heart beat rapidly. She’d hoped to stay out of Keystone until the trial, but now they were there and she and Hugh weren’t married yet. She had no protection.
The man who’d attacked her by the tree waited by the mines at the edge of town, his hand wrapped crudely in what appeared to be an old shirt.
Lola laughed at him and handed his pistol back. “Here, I took the liberty of reloading it for you.”
Hugh stiffened beside her and his steps slowed. Lola clapped him on the shoulder with her pistol, but he didn’t budge. Hattie flinched, remembering just what that felt like. Hattie slowed her steps to match Hugh and crowded close to him. He’d promised to get her out of Keystone, though she
’d laughed at his faith, she banked on it now.
A barber with a mustache comb stuck behind his ear peered out of his front window at them, then strode out on the boardwalk. He crossed his arms over his chest and hollered to a kid playing in the street.
“Hey, get Peterson down here. I don’t like the look of this.”
The young boy dashed from his game and rushed off to a building near the other end of the sparse town. Keystone was laid out somewhat haphazardly, with buildings scattered to the winds, not like Deadwood where everything was connected, almost right on top of one another. The barber strode out into the street in front of them, a formidable force with broad shoulders and a barrel chest.
“What’s going on here?” He glanced at her for just a moment, but Hattie didn’t recognize him.
Lola shoved forward, her man staying behind with the barrel of his pistol in her back. “You just pay no never mind, Horace. I’m bringing in these two for the reward.” She shoved Hattie away from Hugh a little. “This one’s a runaway.” She swung her gun toward Hugh’s head and Hattie flinched. “That one helped her.”
The barber narrowed his eyes. He was the brawniest barber she’d ever seen, not that she’d seen more than two in her whole life.
“That isn’t the story I heard. I have all the Deputy’s wanted posters in my shop and she isn’t on my wall. I heard she was kidnapped.”
Lola blustered and stomped, waving the derringer around like a toy. “You don’t know anything, Horace Littlefield. I heard Ros say she was wanted. I heard her man say there was a reward.”
Horace shook his head and filled his lungs, making him even broader, though, Hattie hadn’t thought it possible. “It ain’t Ros’s fault, but she should know better than to do business with a man she don’t know. That Roy’s a yellow-bellied side winder. I’m sorry, Lola, I can’t let you take these people without the Deputy knowing what’s going on. If he says it’s fine, then go ahead, but not until then.”
Lola seethed, her face turning a deep crimson and her body shook with the tension. “You fancy yourself a deputy, but you ain’t. You keep your nose out of my business. I’ll be able to quit washin’ with that reward.”
Horace took a step closer to her and Hattie stepped back, even though he was on her side, he made quite a scary picture.
Lola screamed and let off a string of curses fit to make a miner blush. A memory wandered to the front of Hattie’s mind. Lola had been at Ros’s and she’d been mean.
She wore my dress.
The one she’d come to Keystone in. When she’d asked for it back, Lola had cursed her just like she’d just done to the barber and that had earned Hattie two days without food. Roy hadn’t come to her defense then.
A woman came out of a small white house. Seeing them, she covered her mouth with her hands and made a noise in her throat of utter indignation. She ran toward Hattie, throwing her arms around her as if they were old friends.
“Oh, that dress looks marvelous on you, dear. Get these ropes off them this instant!” The seamstress yanked at the bonds around her wrist and Lola turned and dashed back to her captives to slap the woman away. As her attention was diverted, Hugh lifted his knee and sent the gun flying. Everyone in the street screamed and ducked for cover. Hugh rammed forward, his hands still tied, shoving her to safety with his chest as the small derringer fell back to the ground.
The frowning seamstress picked herself off the ground and dusted off her skirt. She dug a small scissors from the belt about her waist and cut Hattie free. “I’m Ezzy, and Hugh was so sweet to come to me when you needed help. I can’t sit by and watch this happen. Here, duck into my store while I free him. She’s too crazy to do anything to me.”
Hattie rushed up the stairs to Ezzy’s small porch but a wall of a chest stopped her dead in her tracks. She looked up to see Curry, one of Ros’s men. She let out every bit of breath in her body and immediately felt faint. He lifted his meaty fist high above his head and his mouth curled in an evil smile.
“I’ve been waiting to do this for days. No one makes Ros cry.”
Deputy Peterson hollered over the commotion, stalling Curry’s hand. “What’s all this mess about?”
Ros appeared in the street as if she’d just come from afternoon tea. Her gown was impeccable; shimmery and lavender, shining bright in the sun; her hat almost demure. “Why Deputy, one of my girls has been missing for almost a whole week,” she squeaked. “Now, come to find out this man’s been keeping her all for himself. The way I see it, at the rate of five dollars an hour, why, he owes me about five hundred dollars.” She batted her unnaturally long eyelashes.
The Deputy rolled his eyes skyward then brought his gaze down and settled it on Hugh, who stood in the street, Ezzy still working on his bonds. “Who are you, son, and why are you here?”
Hugh yanked his hands free and turned to Ezzy. Whatever he said to her made her titter sweetly and Hattie felt an instant dislike for the woman and her pretty feminine features.
Hugh faced Deputy Peterson and squared his shoulders. “My name’s Hugh Bradly. I came down here by request of Sheriff Seth Bullock. That there’s Hattie Arnsby, she was taken from her home in Deadwood by compulsion and her family wants her back. Ros contested my claim so I agreed to stay just outside of town until the circuit judge could come and I could show him the letters I have showing a crime had been committed.” He rubbed his wrists and waited for the Deputy to speak but when he didn’t, he continued. “I apologize for not contacting you straight away, I didn’t know you were here.”
Her fingers clutched the railing until her knuckles were white. Here was Hugh, yet again protecting her. He had been from the moment she’d first laid eyes on him and his badge. He hadn’t worn it since he’d brought her to the cabin. Being a deputy had never been his job, she realized that now. He’d only ever been her guardian angel.
“Well, son. I wasn’t. We have a small jail here and rooms above, but I work out of Hill City and don’t get here often. Do you have that paperwork with you?”
Hugh’s shoulders relaxed just a bit. “I don’t, sir. This woman,” he motioned toward Lola, “decided to take it upon herself to bring us back into town. She mentioned some type of reward.”
The Deputy scoffed. “There’s no reward for either of you, leastwise, not a legal one.”
Ros’s chin notched up just a hair and she narrowed her eyes. “What about my contract that says Hattie will work for me…for life?”
“Hugh, go, get your paperwork. We’re not going to bother any judge with this silly dispute. Especially since the local circuit judge happens to be a good friend of Bullock. Ros, get your birdcage back where it belongs. We both know any contract you have ain’t legal.” Peterson glanced around and his eyes warmed on a space just behind Hattie. “Miss Ezzy, I assume you can take care of the girl for a while?”
Ezzy rushed up and squeezed Hattie’s shoulders. “I’d be happy to.” She turned and pulled Hattie, with more force than she’d thought the woman capable of, toward her store. Hattie paused near the door and glanced over her shoulder at Hugh. He wouldn’t have to marry her now. He was free. If the Deputy declared her free, Hugh could take her home. So, why did she feel so alone and scared? Why wasn’t she happy about it?
***
Hugh felt the burn of the eyes on his back as he left Keystone. He was a no account stranger in their community and he’d upset the apple cart. As he turned the bend in the road, a sigh escaped his lungs at the freedom from the prying glances. At least Hattie was safe with the nice seamstress, for now. If the letters were found sufficient, he wouldn’t need to marry Hattie. She could go right home to her family. She would finally be free. Of everything. Including him.
He shoved the cabin door open and his gaze landed on the dress he’d brought to pack for their wedding trip, the brush on the table by her bed, and the blanket she left by the chair. He shook his head and climbed up to his loft. He couldn’t think about what he was losing. What she was gaining was
the only thing that mattered. He could well remember the feeling of finally signing Da’s farm over to the big rancher who’d offered to buy it, relieving him of the burden of managing all the work of a farm meant for three brothers. Freedom was a sweet balm that he wouldn’t take from her. Especially when she’d run from him; fear in her eyes, her body trembling.
He lifted his Bible off his nightstand and turned to his favorite passage in Romans. The three documents flipped out and he pulled them loose, tucking them in his vest. She wouldn’t want to come back to the cabin and be alone here again, she wouldn’t need to. Slowly, he gathered all her things in a flour sack as carefully as he could, trying to ignore the fancy stitches she’d added that morning. It was the dress Hattie had planned to get married in, but now she’d get to marry someone she wanted, in a beautiful dress her sister Ruby would help pick out. Not some cast-off dress that no one else had wanted to buy. With one last look around the cabin, he left, closing the door behind him.
Daisy waited for him in the lean-to, as patient as ever. As soon as he showed the papers to Peterson and brought Hattie her clothes, he needed to get away. Get Hattie out of his mind. He could come back for his own things later.
To some, Keystone was a fortress, completely protected from the rest of the world. It lay in a slight valley at the crux of a few mountains, though calling them mountains was an exaggeration. If only Keystone had protected Hattie in its little fortress.
He tied Daisy to a post in front of the sewing shop and spied the mercantile where he’d sent the first telegram to Bullock. He left Hattie’s bag tied to his saddle and walked the few blocks over to the store. The man smiled at him as he entered.
“’Lo, friend. What can I get for you today?” He adjusted the garter around his arm then wiped the counter, though, it already gleamed.
His legs felt twitchy, nervous. Men didn’t buy women baubles unless they were courting. “I’m looking for hair pins, a mirror, and maybe some pretty ribbon.”
