by Rosie Harper
When she awoke she was slumped on the floor of a carriage, her abductor was looking inordinately pleased with himself. She wanted to hurl insults at him, to scratch and claw at his already ugly and scar covered face. But mostly she just wanted to cry. She had always known that she had been lucky over the years, that she had tested that luck to its limits and even beyond with her exploits, especially in the early years as a prospector. But even she had to admit that maybe that luck had finally reached its limits. In just one day she had lost the man she loved, and been kidnapped and was being taken to God only knew where.
Feeling defeated she accepted there was little hope of rescue. Nobody would know she was gone, but then she had no idea when they had distributed their ridiculous flyer. Maybe there would be someone who didn’t get it? Surely Melissa and Mr Cole, having only spoken with her an hour or so previously would still be there to realise she was not? She had to pray that someone would raise the alarm. But, she also wondered if these fools had been wise enough to check out the office before whisking her away. She could only pray that the evidence she had been working upon, her materials for the meeting had not been asked for by their mysterious boss, and had been left behind. She doubted if any of them was capable of any kind of initiative.
The journey seemed to take days, but may only have been a few minutes. She drifted in and out of consciousness and was glad of it as her head was pounding from the clump she had received. She was occasionally woken by a jolt in the road, and when she was she tried to find a way to look around, to see where they were. Trying to work out where she was headed for was not hard though, if her evidence was right she would be going somewhere North of Fort Worth, to meet Mr Benjamin Arrandale.
After another blackout, she came to and found herself seated in front of a desk. She had been tied securely to the chair, and though she was still gagged it was at least a clean rag this time. There was nothing in the office other than the desk and two chairs. Mariette had to hope that meant they hadn’t brought her evidence with them. Melissa would be able to follow the trail. The door opened and a sharply dressed man, with an overly waxed moustache entered the room. He moved to the chair where he sat down with an unmanly grace. He had perfectly manicured nails, and long slender fingers that made her feel oddly repulsed. “What on earth do you want with me?” she spat as he removed the gag. “You have no right to keep me here.”
“You are of course right my dear. I do have no right to keep you here. But you have no right to be interfering in my business. I am doing nothing illegal, and have every right to buy whatever land I choose, if the owners of that land choose to sell it of course.”
“If everything was so legal, then why am I here? You wouldn’t need to silence me if you weren’t treading too close to the line. I have the proof too. You have been poisoning feed deliveries and other essential supplies from your stores. But they are only added to the orders of the farms and ranches that you want to buy. Property all across Texas that was once profitable is now almost at crisis point because you want to buy land that ‘might’ have oil under it. Oil you have no way to access, and may never be able to. Even if buying the land is legal, the rest of it sure as hell isn’t – especially when you are doing it on the back of a huge gamble. You are ruining people’s lives. I hate to break it to you, but that is exactly what newspapers are for – to report just such injustices.”
“You have no proof, and I could sue you for printing such lies. You truly do have a very vivid imagination Miss Macardle.”
“But I do have the proof,” she laughed. Arrandale looked at her with a puzzled look on his pale brow. “And the best part of it is, I was working on it when your goons arrived. They didn’t think to bring it too did they!” A look of icy rage flashed across his face, his pale eyes flashing at the door. Mariette was over the moon, she had judged the men well – he hadn’t gotten his hands on the evidence. Susannah would be sending the Sheriff, Caleb and Hardy to rescue her, and getting it printed as she sat here.
“But there is no proof,” he tried to bluff her.
“You’ve lost this round Arrandale. I may not be able to prove you poisoned every farm, but I do have witnesses to the orders you gave, and proof from one up near Dallas. They noticed the difference a little quicker than most because you got greedy – upped the levels of arsenic. You wanted that one quicker didn’t you. Thought you might lose out to someone else? Or were they just too stubborn and you wanted to teach them a little lesson?”
Furious Arrandale stormed from the room, and Mariette sat there laughing – almost hysterically now. She may have exposed him, she may have saved many families and their land – but she had the worst feeling that she had pushed her luck way past its limits this time. Arrandale clearly had no qualms about using underhanded means to achieve his ends, would think nothing of sending one of his henchman in to put a bullet in her skull. She could only pray that she would be found, and soon.
Chapter Seven
Hardy was racing through the night. Caleb, the Sheriff and a group of men from Stephenville rode in a V behind him. Caleb had taken a minor detour from their route to fetch him, knowing that Hardy wouldn’t want to be missing from a search party for the woman he loved. They raced towards Fort Worth praying that Melissa was right. She had pretty quickly raised the alarm that Mariette was missing, and had then gone up to the office where she knew her friend had been working. She had found the bag of evidence and shown it immediately to the Sheriff – who had scolded her for keeping such information from him, but then galvanised the entire town into action.
“Fort Worth Sheriff is waiting for us at Arrandale’s,” Michael Proud panted as he rode up. He had been sent on ahead to alert the lawmen. He had clearly ridden his horse to the limit. He was foaming at the bit and had sweat pouring from his withers. “Well done Michael,” Sheriff Harper said. Take it easy on your way home. There’ll be a drink or two for us all in the Saloon when we return I don’t doubt.”
Hardy tipped his hat at the eager young man who had done his bit, and then pressed Blaze onwards. The road was a good one, relatively few ruts so they were able to cover the ground quickly, even though the night was dark. He knew now what a fool he had been. Nothing was more important than Mariette to him. His pride meant little if anything happened to her. He never wanted to leave her side ever again, and if that meant being seen as less of a man because his wife was wealthier than he, then so be it. He just knew he had to get to her, had to get her home safely.
The mansion was one of the largest homes any of them had ever seen. Arrandale was clearly a wealthy man, though everyone in the party was certain little of it had been through hard work. When the townspeople had heard what this man had been doing to people like them all over the state they had been up in arms, and were determined to see him get his come-uppance. Hardy wanted to kill him with his bare hands for even daring to lay a hand or Mariette, but knew that it would be best if justice were served. Now he saw the manner in which he lived, he couldn’t help but agree. For a man used to this it would be one hell of a shock to find himself in a dirty cell, surrounded by the worst, most violent and unpleasant men on earth. Yes, some time in jail before he was hanged was far greater punishment. A quick death would be too easy.
They found the local Sheriff and his deputies were already in place around the vast home, and now they were all together, they took their places and stormed the doors. It wasn’t long before they were in, and Arrandale had been found in his library drinking brandy. He blanched even paler as he saw their guns, and was more than happy to tell them where Mariette was being kept. Hardy rushed to the tiny room in the basement, barged through the flimsy door lock with his shoulder and almost sobbed as he saw the look of hope and love on Mariette’s face as she realised he was there.
“Oh my love, I am so sorry,” she said. “Maybe I need to learn not to meddle so.”
“No my darling you keep meddling. The world will be a better place without the likes of that in it,” he said as
he unbound her hands and legs. “As long as you do it with me by your side at all times, I don’t mind what you do – though a few less night-time rescue missions would be great if you could possibly manage it,” he said teasingly. He’d follow her, rescue her from anywhere – he knew that now. Could never again let her go.
“I’ll do my best, but maybe I should slow down a little,” she took his hand and laid it on her belly. “I don’t know if it is possible to be a reckless fool and be a good Mother.” Hardy stared at her, astounded by her words. His mouth began to slowly turn into a grin that split his face from ear to ear. “You’re having my baby?”
“I think so, but I was so worried that you would marry me just because of that – and I didn’t want to make you give up your pride,” she was speaking so rapidly, and Hardy knew that none of that mattered to him anymore. He kissed her deeply, silencing her, holding her close to him, allowing his body and his passion talk for him.
“I have learnt that pride is rather over-rated. I’d far rather be with the woman I adore, and the baby we are going to bring up to be feisty, and opinionated. A gorgeous girl..”
“Or boy,” Mariette reminded him. He nodded.
“Or boy, that will walk his own path in life – no matter what anyone else thinks.”
“You’re forgetting something I think,” Mariette said with a cheeky grin.
“I am?”
“Hmm, think harder. I think there is definitely a little question you may have forgotten to make sure you had the answer to!” Suddenly it dawned on him.
“Mariette Macardle,” he kissed her lips. “Though you are the most infuriating,” he kissed the tip of her nose, “bloody-minded woman I have ever met,” and a peck on each eye. “I adore you. Will you marry me?” he asked. She simply nodded as he picked her up and carried her out to where everyone was waiting. “She said yes!” They all cheered. Arrandale just looked petrified as he was led off by the Sheriff to await trial.
Epilogue
A wrenching cry could be heard throughout the house. “Mariette, where have you put the baby’s rattle?” Hardy yelled up the stairs of their new ranch house.
“You are less than useless sometimes,” his wife said as she swept into the parlour and presented him with the silver rattle that Carlton Williams simply would not sleep without. Hardy moved to his cradle and began to rock it gently as he shook the rattle. In moments the wailing had stopped and Carlton was staring at the rattle as if mesmerized. A few minute more and he was fast asleep. Hardy brushed his hand gently over the copper curls on his soft head and relaxed at last. He pressed a kiss onto the tiny forehead and then moved to the cradle beside it.
“You my beautiful one, I will leave you everything because you are an angel,” he whispered to the peaceful sleeping form of his daughter Georgina.
“That is because she is a Daddy’s girl. She is the very devil for me!” Mariette joked.
When Mariette had given birth to twins it had been a wonderful surprise. They had been over the moon to have a perfect family right from the start. But, that was before they had known how demanding two infants could be. Nonetheless they were both besotted with their tiny offspring, and doted on their every whim. They reasoned that it was impossible to spoil them while they were so young, would teach them to be courageous and self motivating when they were a little older.
Mariette had softened since becoming a Mama, but she was still his warrior. The newspaper continued to print stories that exposed corruption and wrong doing. She had convinced the townspeople of the merits of the co-operative, and following their recent experiences everyone had agreed with her. She would always be outspoken, and do thing her own way, and he was proud of her for not bowing down to anyone. In her usual fashion, she had managed to surprise him on their wedding day with a scroll of paper. He had unrolled it cautiously, having no clue what he would find inside. With Mariette you simply never knew what she would do next. He had been over the moon to find it was the deeds to a vast swathe of land that abutted the lands his friend Caleb ranched across. He had set to and built them a home, with the help of the co-operative straight away, determined they should be in and settled long before the baby arrived.
He often found himself wondering what might have happened to him had she not walked into the Saloon that day. They could so easily have missed one another. He could have passed through town and never have known he was passing up the woman he had always dreamed of. Instead he had almost been stupid enough to walk away even once he knew her. Never again. He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Thank you,” he whispered in her ear.
“It was my pleasure, whatever it is I have done this time.” She sank down on her knees between the cribs. “Thank you my darling. These are the most precious gift, even if they do drive me crazy!”
“Now they are asleep, do you think I could entice you to join me in a gentle waltz?” Hardy asked his wife. He had never been a dancer before, but Mariette had insisted he learn so he wouldn’t be the only man not dancing at his own wedding party. He’d discovered he was rather good at it, and he loved being able to hold his wife so close.
“I’d be delighted, sing something beautiful to me as we do,” she said with a grin. Hardy had the world’s worst singing voice.
“If we don’t want to wake the twins, I think it might be best if you do the singing my love.” Mariette swayed gracefully into his arms, and he began to twirl her around the spacious room. “I do love dancing with you Mrs Williams, and I do love more than anything.”
“Well Hardy, I’d love to say I feel the same way, but I’, afraid you are on an equal footing with those monsters over there, but there is only one man who makes my heart pound so,” as she spoke she took his hand and laid it on her breast. He could feel her heart hammering beneath his fingers. He kissed her throat and felt it increase its pace.
“I say Mrs Williams, are you sure you are quite well?” he teased
“I’m not sure, maybe I need a little lie down,” she said with a wink as she moved towards the stairs, leading him up to their bed.
“Now that sounds like a rather wonderful idea Mrs Williams. A little lie down while they nap could be just what the doctor ordered.”
THE END
The Cowboy’s Past (BOOK 3)
Prologue
The coach raced through the night, the horses panting with the exertion their driver was pushing them to make. The carriage clanked ominously, the springs creaking with the weight. Nell Fitzpatrick clung to the seat anxiously. She had never been more frightened in her life. She was beginning to realise just how lucky she had been. She had heard the tales of hostile Indians, bandits and highway men, but never had any trouble of any kind. It had been twenty years since she and her husband, Tom, had decided to make the journey to South Dakota in pursuit of their dreams. Full of youthful exuberance they had come, their beloved daughter Annie just a baby as they took the long journey from Boston to Deadwood to stay with Annie’s Aunty Kitty.
Once there they had found that there were opportunities all over the region, but had chosen to settle in Silver City. It was a mining town. Tom soon found work and their fortunes began to rise. They went to Church on Sundays, worked hard all week and were thrifty. Soon they had built a comfortable pot of savings and had purchased themselves land. Their determination made it successful and they became known for the quality of their pork and the freshness of their vegetables. Four more children had followed Annie: two boys, Matthew and Joseph; and two more girls, Margaret and Katherine. They were much respected, and Annie, with her warm brown eyes and chestnut hair, had even drawn the eye of the handsome son of the owner of the largest ranch in the Territory. Life had indeed been good to them all.
When word had reached them that Aunty Kitty was mortally ill Nell hadn’t hesitated. The journey from Deadwood to Silver City was always fraught with danger, the local tribes weren’t always friendly, but Nell hadn’t been about to let her poor Aunty Kitty be sick alone. She had tr
ied for months to get the poor woman to join her and her family in Silver City, but the stubborn old lady was determined to stay in the house that her beloved husband, Aidan, had built them when they moved out West all those years ago. Nell could understand that, she knew she wanted to die in her own bed, with the memories of her wonderful family and all that love around her too.
“Ma’am, I don’t think I can outrun them,” the harried coachman called down to her. She had already been fiddling nervously with her rosary, now she began to pray in earnest. Her family needed her, surely the Good Lord would see that, would deliver her and the coachman safely back to Silver City. The sound of pounding hooves was almost deafening as the coach was finally surrounded and came to a halt. Nell took a deep breath and sighed heavily, ready to meet her fate whatever it may be.
But there was no whooping and hollering around the coach, just a strange and eerie silence. Nell knew that the local Sioux could be volatile, but it was rarer now. The groups that preyed on white settlers were often young hotheads. No, the bigger threat these days were the bandits who roamed the night, robbing coaches and taking whatever they could. But Nell had always heard tell that both tended to be loud and brash. This menacing quiet was somehow more frightening than anything she could ever have imagined. Then she heard heavy footsteps above her and the carriage moved a little as if someone was getting up onto the dashboard.
A quiet groan, and a dull thud broke the silence, and the carriage began to move once more. She could hear hoof beats and the odd nicker from different horses, so she knew the coach was no longer alone. There would be little point trying to escape. Her body was quivering with fear, and she felt icily cold. She kept up her prayers, fearful that they may want more than the money in her purse. But she was no wealthy matron, had little to offer anyone. Oh, they had worked hard, had built themselves a good home and built a respected business, but every penny they had, they ploughed them into the education for their children, or straight back into their farm. Though she hoped she had value to her loved ones, she was sure that any ransom demand bandits might make would be beyond their means to raise.
