by Linda Broday
“I know what you’re doing. My business with you doesn’t include food.”
The moment Ridge had prayed he could avoid, came. Addie opened the back door. He felt a change in her and knew the minute she’d figured out what was happening, felt her indecision.
“Ridge?” Her voice trembled.
He kept his back to her and forced calm into his voice. “It’s all right, love. Tom Calder and I have some things to work out. Why don’t you get breakfast started, honey?”
“That sounds good. Mr. Calder, you’ll be welcome to sit at our table, but you’ll have to leave your gun outside.” The words strangled in her throat.
The squeak of the screen door sounded, letting Ridge know she’d gone back inside.
“Does she know she married a killer, a man who forces himself on women?” Calder spat.
“I keep no secrets from my wife. She knows everything.”
“Your version.”
“The day’s wasting, Calder. Whatever it is you have a mind to do, let’s get it over with.” The sun would be up in a moment and shining in his eyes, blinding him.
Tom Calder shifted his weight and stuck his gun into the holster at his hip. Ridge guessed the time for talking had ended. He mentally measured the twenty paces between them, the slight breeze, the face of the grief-stricken man facing him, his eyes so full of hate. It would devastate anyone to lose one son, much less two, and Ridge bore him no ill will. It just frustrated him that Calder refused to see the truth. Maybe it was easier to believe a lie.
Ridge straightened his shoulders and inhaled, flexing his hand. “I forgive you for what you’re about to do, Tom Calder.”
Rage blazed across the rancher’s weathered face. He jerked his pistol from the leather and fired.
One second separated Ridge from death.
No time to think. To aim. To try reason one last time. Pure reflexes kicked in. He drew.
The bullet struck Calder’s hand, the force ripping his gun away. Blood flew, splatters following it.
The acrid taste of gunpowder filled Ridge’s mouth. Through the haze of smoke, he watched Calder clutch his bloody hand and drop to his knees, sobbing.
Bodie ran from the barn where he’d evidently been watching. He came full of purpose, but when he reached them, he stopped, crossed his arms, and stuck his hands in his armpits. He clearly wanted to help but didn’t know what to do next.
Ridge knew little more than the kid. “It’s all right, Bodie. It’s over.”
Addie flew from the house in a panic and ran to Ridge. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” He walked to the rancher and knelt beside him, laid an arm across his shoulders. “This is done. Go home to your ranch and your grandson, Calder. It’s not too late to put your life back together.”
Calder scowled at him from under shaggy eyebrows. “With a useless hand?”
“Others have managed with much less. You still have one good one, and you’re alive. That counts for a whole lot.”
The breeze blew the hem of Addie’s dress around her ankles. “Come into the house, Mr. Calder, and let me wrap your hand. Then we’ll eat breakfast and you can tell me about that fine grandson of yours.” She stood aside while Bodie and Ridge lifted the rancher to his feet. “What is his name?”
“Jacob Calder, ma’am. He’s three.”
“I’m sure he’s a fine boy.” Addie held the screen door while Ridge and Bodie helped the man inside and settled him at the table.
Ridge’s hand trembled as he poured coffee, and Bodie plunked a cup down in front of Tom while Addie got out her medical supplies. Ridge watched the care with which she tended the wound and wrapped it. No anger, no harsh words. Just a heart full of forgiveness. His chest swelled with pride.
He’d waited five long years to resolve this part of his life, and to do it without more killing seemed a sweet miracle. He bowed his head for a moment of thanks.
* * *
After Calder left to seek Dr. Mary’s services before heading back to his ranch, Addie found herself alone with Ridge. She took his hands. They were so large, callus-lined from work. He could hold a child or an animal as easily as his Colt.
“You have so much power in these hands, but you also have great tenderness.” She pressed a kiss on his palm. “What I love is that you know which one to use for different situations. I’m glad you forgave Calder. He was hurting and had let hate override his judgment.” Her words were soft as she felt her way toward what she wanted to say. The smell of his soap brought a measure of peace. She breathed it in and traced the corded muscles in his forearms, the blue veins that carried his precious lifeblood. “Will you ever take up the pulpit again? You’d make a fine preacher.”
“Hope’s Crossing has the only minister it needs with Brother Paul. I’m done with preaching. All I want to do is to be your husband. Thank you for being kind to Calder.”
“You teach me how every single day.”
“I don’t know about that.” Ridge kissed her cheek. “I need to finish the chores and go into town. I have to help put the barn back together.”
“I’d like to go with you if you don’t mind.” She watched a happy light fill his eyes.
“I was hoping you might.”
The screen door opened, and Bodie stepped into the kitchen. “Hoped she might what?”
Addie laughed. The boy was getting comfortable with them and had lost his fear of Ridge—if he ever had much to start with. “We’re going to town. Want to come?”
“I might. Sawyer, Henry, and me talked about going hunting today.”
Addie and Ridge shared a raised-eyebrow look.
“You did, did you?” she asked.
Bodie shrugged. “Yeah, they’re pretty fun to be with.”
“So you’re over wanting to fight them?” Ridge grabbed a cold biscuit and took a bite.
“Yep.”
Addie patted his arm. “What about Violet?”
“She said she’s writing Noah Legend. She’s too young for me anyway.” Bodie took the last cold biscuit from the plate and went out the door.
“The love life of the young.” Addie laughed.
Town was a hotbed of activity when they arrived an hour later for the town meeting. Angus O’Connor presented his plans, and Charlotte Wintersby talked about the bank. Then after various others spoke about it being time to quit hiding and walk in the sunshine, they took a vote. It was unanimous to open the back passage. Everyone scattered to begin the town’s transformation. One group worked in the community barn, and others had already started to remove the large boulders that had been put in place years ago to block the back entrance when the town was little more than an outlaw hideout, the old Devil’s Crossing.
Addie joined Tally, Nora, and Melanie, who’d gathered to watch Charlotte Wintersby organize the young men moving her into the new bank—and to add their two cents if asked.
“This is exciting, to have so much going on in one day.” Addie scanned the town and smiled when she saw Ridge rolling up his shirtsleeves and moving to help the men loading sleds with the gigantic rocks.
“I think this is just the beginning.” Nora brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “Soon, our town will have everything the larger communities do.”
Tally draped her arm around Addie and Nora and leaned in. “Clay said Dr. Mary is going to enlarge her hospital and add six more beds. That is, if she stays. I have a feeling that if that handsome Irishman heads back to Kansas City, she may go with him. I wouldn’t blame her one bit.”
Nora giggled. “Who knew she had him stashed away?”
Addie found an opening to give her predictions. “Personally, I think we’ll see a wedding. If we’re lucky, maybe two—Eleanor and George.”
Peter Stone, Martha Truman’s handsome brother, walked past carrying a beautiful oil painting of a seasi
de town. “Where would you like this hung, Miss Charlotte?”
Charlotte laid a finger to her chin in thought. The sunlight caught the brown of her twinkling eyes, and her features softened. “I should put it out where patrons could enjoy it, but I’m going to be selfish. Hang it in my office, facing my desk.”
Peter smiled and winked. “Wise choice. Nothing wrong in being a little selfish.”
After he went inside, Addie moved to the banker’s side. “I don’t like to pry, but I get the feeling that painting means something special to you.”
“It holds very fond memories and is a place where I was happiest.” Charlotte forced a laugh. “I fear I’m quite a sentimentalist.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. We all cling to certain meaningful moments.” Except for Addie, those moments had all seemed to come after she’d become Ridge’s wife. She chose to erase everything that occurred before that.
“It’s gone now, and I must move on. Love isn’t meant to last. Not for me.”
“You might be surprised. You can make new memories and be happy again.”
“I will try, and who knows? Maybe you’ll be right. Excuse me, I see I’m needed.” Charlotte went to a worker motioning her over and instructed him where to place a long, oak cabinet.
Before long, Charlotte had completed the move into the bank, and everything was spic and span for business on Monday morning. While they stood around talking, Tait’s twin nephews ran to tell them that Melanie had given birth to a daughter.
Addie hurried to the Trinity home to congratulate the happy mother and father. Her eyes filled with tears at the sight of Tait cradling his tiny baby girl in his large hands. She could easily picture Ridge doing the same with his son.
“One day soon,” she murmured softly as she left the new family to rest.
The rest of the day passed pleasantly. Addie was on her way to find Ridge when she spied Dr. Mary emerging from the Trinity home, back in her practical dress, her bullet necklace glinting in the sun.
Addie hurried to fall into step with her. “Doctor, thanks to you, we have a new addition to the town. I’m very relieved everything turned out well.”
Dr. Mary smiled. “It was an easy delivery. Not all are that way.”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Addie let a moment’s silence drift between them before getting to the crux of the matter on her mind. “I was so happy to see you at the dance.”
Dr. Mary stopped and scowled. “Is that all anyone can find to talk about?”
“You have to admit that you gave us quite a shock.” Addie smiled and went on. “I’d never seen you with your hair down, and apparently no one else had either. For a moment, I thought you might be a new arrival. I found Mr. O’Connor quite an interesting man.”
“One thing about that man, he likes to talk and flirt with the ladies. But I don’t mind, because I understand it’s part of his personality and make allowances.” Dr. Mary laid a hand on Addie’s arm. “When you get to be my age, you learn quite a bit about how men think. I suspect you’re still trying to figure that out.”
“Yes, ma’am, I am.”
“It’ll take a while, but Ridge isn’t as complicated as some.” Dr. Mary’s voice was firm but soft. “I will say for sure and certain that I do not intend to leave Hope’s Crossing, and everyone can put that in their pipe and smoke it. I’ve found the place I’d been searching for all my life.”
There was that bliss that Nora had once spoken about. Angus or no Angus, Dr. Mary had found hers already.
“I think I have too.” Addie stared at the high walls of the canyon around them, the last rays of sunshine creating a stunning mosaic pattern on the rocks.
A smile curved the doctor’s lips. “I’ve known wealthy men who spent thousands of dollars looking for a place that satisfies their soul, and we have it right here. I have plans to enlarge my hospital, and to get the space might require me moving out where you and Ridge live.”
“We’d be proud to have you for a neighbor.” Who knew? At some point, maybe all the businesses would move out where there was room.
Dr. Mary’s gaze pierced her. “Be sure to spread it around and save me from having to take out an ad in the newspaper alongside the prices of turnips and hogs.”
“I will.” Addie looked up at movement and saw Ridge and Angus heading toward them. “There come our men. Must be quitting time.”
Addie went to meet Ridge and could’ve sworn his face reflected the bliss that filled her heart. Right here was where she’d stay, and she’d be buried here one day. Next to her one true love.
Thirty
Several days later, Addie forgot to stay alert when she built a fire out back, intending to do the wash. Fear that her skirts would get caught in the flames had led her to dress in her Levi’s trousers. Ridge had eaten breakfast and headed out to resume work on the rubble blocking the back entrance to town, and Bodie had gone off with Sawyer and Henry, leaving her alone on the property.
Addie hadn’t given that a second thought until a whisper of warning shot up her spine.
Something evil drifted on the breeze. She shivered and started toward the kitchen door. Two steps from safety, a black-clothed figure leaped from behind their rain barrel, cutting her off. She shrieked and ran, but she wasn’t fast enough. The man closed his bony fingers about one wrist and yanked her around to face him.
She stared into the face of the devil, smelled alcohol on his breath. The blood in her veins froze, and memories of a dozen beatings raced through her head.
“You thought you could hide from me!” Ezekiel drew back a hand and slapped her face.
Addie’s head whipped back, pain shooting through her.
“You disgust me, prancing around in those men’s clothes like a jezebel, living with outlaws and killers. I taught you the Word of God, tried my best to beat the spite out of you, but you spurned the hand that fed and clothed you.” Spittle flew from Ezekiel’s mouth and left droplets on his brown goatee.
The vile stream of hate circled her head, his words a flock of vultures diving in to peck and maim her.
Still addled from the slap, Addie had trouble getting her wits about her. She had to think. Had to get away, had to get to Ridge. He wasn’t here. She had to save herself. But Ezekiel’s grip was like a band of steel. She jerked hard against his strength, trying to break his hold, her efforts futile.
Ezekiel shook her. “Where’s my boy? I want him now.”
She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. “He’s far from your clutches. I don’t care what you do, I’ll never breathe a word.” She gathered up a wad of spit and let it fly. The glob landed square on his nose and across part of one sunken cheek, trickling down his skin.
Addie held her breath. What she saw in his eyes filled her with terror.
“The sight of you and your devil ways sickens me!” He jerked her around and tied her hands behind her, then took a black hood from inside his shirt and threw it over her head. Her world turned pitch-black and reeked of sweat. He dragged her along, tripping and stumbling, and when she sprawled on the hard ground, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder and strode on.
To where?
The snuffle of horses reached her, and a second later he tossed her onto a wooden floor—no, the bed of a wagon. Her right elbow took the brunt of the hard landing, and pain stole her ability to breathe for several long moments.
“What are you doing, Ezekiel?” The timid voice belonged to Addie’s mother.
“Whatever I have to in order to find my flesh and blood,” Ezekiel snapped.
“She’s your flesh and blood!” Ingrid Jancy cried.
“Silence, woman! This…this devil worshiper is no daughter of mine.” The wagon shifted as Ezekiel climbed into the seat, then they were moving.
If her mother had been stronger, together they could’ve stood up to Ezekiel. B
ut he’d beaten the fight out of Ingrid years ago. No, she would be no help.
Addie didn’t know where Ezekiel meant to take her, but the black foreboding choking her said she would never walk away. He wouldn’t let her live. The darkness in his own twisted, demented mind would demand he put an end to her.
The wagon jolted over the rough ground, taking her farther from the man she loved. A quiet sob rose. She’d never see Ridge again, ride to their hidden pool, or make love until dawn. Never again sit and read with Bodie or train with King. No more good times and bad to share with her friends in Hope’s Crossing. Tears rolled down her face inside the hood.
Everything that made her life worth living was slipping away, and she couldn’t stop it.
She worked feverishly at the rope binding her wrists. If she could get free, she had a chance. Only the knots wouldn’t budge, and the painful slick wetness at her fingertips told her she’d ripped her fingernails down to the quick. She had to think of something else. She felt along the wooden bed for something, anything to use as a weapon.
Her situation was dire, but she wouldn’t give up until the last shred of hope was gone and life had left her body. She’d survived beatings, three years in prison, survived a tornado, survived too many things for her life to end now. Like this.
Inch by inch, she ran her hands along the sides but encountered only some useless small scraps of wood and a bundle of paper. The only things that might be helpful were two large boxes wrapped in what felt like burlap. If her parents had been on the road awhile, the boxes probably held supplies for the trip.
At the end of her options, she sat back to think.
Ridge would come after her, that much she was sure of. He’d see the fire and the vat of water she’d set heating for the wash and follow the tracks. He was good at tracking animals—and men who behaved like them.
Then another thought made her freeze. Ezekiel would kill Ridge without a second thought.
Oh God, she couldn’t let that happen.
If only she could see trouble coming, feel the breeze on her face. She lay down and tried to get the hood off by scooting along the wagon bed. Several times she managed to pull it up a little, but it always caught on her chin or fell back into place.
