Garnet
The Widows of Wildcat Ridge Series
Book 9
By
Caroline Clemmons
Copyright © 2018 by Caroline Clemmons
Cover design by Silver Sage
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Epilogue
About Caroline Clemmons
Chapter One
September 1884
Wildcat Ridge, Utah Territory
Garnet Chandler startled awake. Who was in her bedroom? She fought to keep from gasping aloud. While she lay frozen, her heart pounded. She’d almost called out to see if her niece or nephew was there. Neither child would creep around the room instead of speaking her name and crawling onto her bed.
Light from the almost full moon shone through the window and outlined an adult moving with stealth. She was certain she watched a man whose wiry shape, hunched shoulders, and prominent Adam’s apple reminded her of someone.
A dresser drawer glided open with barely a scrape. Why would anyone sneak about her room? What if this person hurt her niece and nephew? She couldn’t allow this intruder to violate the sanctity of her home.
Her hand slid under her pillow and grasped her late husband’s Colt .45. Without a rustle, she aimed at the shadow. She fought to keep fear from altering her voice.
“Stop and raise your hands or I’ll shoot.”
The unwanted visitor tossed a drawer at her and ran from the room. No longer trying for silence, he clomped down the stairs and out the café’s back door. Hands shaking, she rose from bed, grabbed her robe, and slid her feet into felt slippers.
How had he gained entry? She shoved the revolver into her robe’s pocket and rushed to check on her niece. The lamp burning low in the child’s room provided a soft glow.
The six-year-old sat up in bed, clutching her favorite doll to her chest. “What was that noise? Molly and I were scared.”
“Nothing to worry about, Hyacinth, a drawer fell on the floor. Go back to sleep, dear.” She kissed Hyacinth’s golden curls and tucked the cover around her and her doll.
As she left her niece’s room, she discovered her nephew standing in the hall. Joey clutched a thick stick that looked like the handle from an axe or a pick.
She put a finger to her lips and nodded toward Hyacinth’s room.
He whispered, “I saw a man run down the stairs.”
She guided him toward his room. “Hyacinth stays so frightened I didn’t want her to know. I’m going to check the door and window locks downstairs.”
Joey fell in step with her. “I’m coming too. Let’s take my lamp.”
Since their parents’ death, both children required frequent reassurance they were safe. Usually the two slept with a lamp lit and the wick turned low. She didn’t mind since the light helped dispel their fear.
Her eight-year-old nephew tried hard to be the man of the family. His parents and her husband had died in the mine disaster several months ago. Since then, the children had lived with her.
She kept her hand in her pocket on the revolver as she crept down the stairs. The back door stood ajar.
“The lock is broken.”
How had someone managed to destroy the lock without waking her? She was so exhausted from operating the café on her own. Perhaps she’d slept too soundly to hear the noise.
Garnet closed the door and scooted the pie safe against it. Flimsy protection at best but she couldn’t do better tonight. From the position of the moon, she judged the time to be past midnight.
She checked both kitchen windows and they were locked. So were the front door and the front windows. Her nephew kept close to her while she patrolled.
“What are we gonna do?” Joey asked.
“I’ll get a blanket and a pillow and sleep down here tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll report the break in to Marshal Wentz and get someone to repair the door latch. Thank you for your help, but now you need to go back to bed and sleep.”
“I’ll stay here with you.”
“G rowing boys need a lot of sleep. Come on and I’ll tuck you in.” She ruffled his sandy-colored hair. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. You’re not too grown up to have me tuck you in at night.”
“Okay-y-y.” He shuffled up the steps. In his room, he sat on the bed and looked at his lamp. “Reckon you could leave a light on a little brighter, just for tonight?”
“Of course.” She adjusted the lamp’s wick. If doing so would helped reassure him, he could have two lamps burning all night. He tried to be brave but he was still an eight-year-old child.
“Now, under the cover.” When she’d tucked him in, she kissed his forehead.
Since the death of the children’s parents and her husband, she’d left a lamp burning for each child. Many nights, Hyacinth and Joey would wander into her room rather than sleep alone. She had to admit their presence had helped her sleep.
She missed Michael’s companionship. She also missed his brother, Josiah, and sister-in-law, Dessie. Dessie had become her best friend.
Carrying a blanket and a pillow, she went to the kitchen. A cot was in the storeroom. She brought it out and put the narrow bed against the pie safe. If anyone tried to enter, they’d wake her.
Tomorrow would be busy so she needed her rest. She plopped onto the cot and tried to sleep. The revolver went back under her pillow.
Her fear magnified every noise. She was certain she would have heard a moth’s wings in her current state. Not only her safety was involved, she had two orphans to protect. How she loved those two sweet children left in her care.
Near daylight, she rose and went to her room to dress. She had managed to doze on and off but exhaustion weighed down her body. She felt many times as old as her twenty-one years.
Every day since the disaster had added to her fatigue. The pressure of being on her own while providing for two children gnawed away at her. One thing was for certain, she needed help running this café.
After she’d dressed, she restored her room. The drawer her housebreaker had thrown was one in which she’d kept important papers. Now they were scattered across the room and the drawer had cracked.
She picked it up and set it aside before restoring order. Perhaps the drawer could be mended. She wondered if the blacksmith or the undertaker would accept the job.
By the time the children came down, she’d set their food and hers on the family table in the kitchen. When they’d finished, she got meat frying, biscuits in the oven, and was soon ready to o
pen for breakfast.
“Whose turn is it to turn the sign today?”
Hyacinth leaped from her chair. “Mine.” The child rushed to the front and turned the Closed sign to Open then unlocked the front door.
Fortunately, Marshal Cordelia Wentz was the first person to arrive.
Garnet spoke quietly. “Woke up to a prowler in my room last night. Ruined the lock on the back door.”
“I’d better see. You go ahead with your business. Joey can show me before he goes to school.” Cordelia strode through the swinging door into the kitchen.
Garnet had no choice but to let her nephew be the marshal’s guide. Hungry people wanted their food in a timely manner. She had no intention of turning away paying customers. After almost no business due to the mine disaster, she was finally seeing an increase in customers.
Cordelia was soon back. “Joey said the man ran down the stairs and out to the alley. You recognize him?”
Garnet described the outline she’d seen. “I have a creepy feeling, as if I should know who he was. For the life of me, I can’t figure who he could be.”
“I’ll keep a lookout for the description you gave me, but that fits half the men in the county. You let me know if you see anyone suspicious hanging around.”
Garnet hurried from the dining room carrying dirty dishes to the kitchen then back to the dining room laden with plates of hot food. In between, she poured what seemed like gallons of coffee. She was run off her feet until the breakfast rush slowed. Not for the first time since his death, she was grateful for Mike’s extravagance in purchasing so many dishes.
Around ten, she was happy to see her friend come into the café.
Rosemary Brennan took a seat. “I stopped by for a cup of coffee and friendly conversation.”
Garnet poured two cups of coffee. She set leftover biscuits, jam, and butter on the table for each of them. “I’m always happy to see you—and happy for a chance to sit down.”
“Mmm, your biscuits are so fluffy.” She twirled her knife at Garnet. “You know, though, I wish you would make those sticky buns like Dessie used to make. Those were so good.”
Garnet took a sip of coffee. “Everyone loves them but they take extra time I simply don’t have. I haven’t made them since the horse auction.”
“Aww, and I missed getting one then. You had Ailsa McNair helping you, didn’t you?”
“And her daughter, Tillie, but that was just for the one event. I can’t afford to hire anyone permanently.”
Her friend leaned forward. “Garnet, you’ll have to employ someone at least part time. You look totally exhausted.”
Garnet grimaced and brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. “Truthfully, I’m so tired I can’t think straight. Getting everything done on my own is almost impossible. Sometimes I think I could go to bed, pull the covers over my head, and sleep for a week.”
Rosemary spread jam on a second biscuit. “My dear friend, you can’t let yourself get sick with two children depending on you.”
“You’re right. I couldn’t love those two more if I’d given birth to them. They’re my precious treasures and the reason I can continue working so hard.”
A wide smile graced Rosemary’s lovely face. “They do seem to be especially good children. Even so, they’re a new responsibility that’s adding to your mental and physical strain.”
“That’s not what’s worrying me today.” She told her friend about the prowler the previous evening.
Rosemary clasped Garnet’s hand. “Oh, Garnet, that must have been so frightening. I hope whoever he was doesn’t return. You need help here to discourage that sort of thing from happening.”
Garnet’s finger traced the fluer de lis pattern on the oiled cloth that covered the table. “I know I have to do something. If only I had someone to do the heavier chores. Michael used to lift the heavy pots of liquid and sacks of flour and so forth and watch the range to make certain nothing burned while I was in the dining room.”
Rosemary pushed away from the table. “I hope you think of something before your health is ruined. Sorry, I don’t mean to sound so sour. Guess I’ve let being upset with Miles color my mood.”
Recognizing the pain in her friend’s voice, Garnet rose and hugged Rosemary’s shoulders. “Give him the benefit of the doubt. You’ll see, he’ll return and you can work out your misunderstanding.”
“I pray you’re right.” Rosemary returned the hug then left.
Garnet carried their plates and cups to the kitchen where a giant mound of dirty dishes awaited
Chapter Two
Adam Bennett blinked awake and fought to remember where he was. Slowly the unpleasant memories returned. The beating and robbery. Being kicked into the ravine.
He waved his arms at the crows gathered in the trees overhead. He was grateful for the brush that had protected him from the birds. He staggered to his feet and braced against a tree.
How long had he been unconscious?
Tentatively, he touched the knot on his forehead. From the way the spot hurt, he’d expected it to be big as an orange. Instead, it was pecan-sized. The other bruises he’d collected in the fight and on the painful fall into the ravine hurt like a son-of-a-gun.
Worse, he felt like a green tinhorn for letting Frank Lawson and his two pals get the drop on him. Frank had kicked him so hard Adam had rolled into the gorge before the trio were finished punching him. Adam gave thanks for that.
As he’d careened down the ravine’s side, one of the men had yelled at Frank, “Hey, I wanted those boots.”
The other man cried, “And, I wanted his coat.”
Frank’s anger carried in his voice, “Then go get ’em.”
Lucky for Adam, they hadn’t checked to see if he was dead. Otherwise, he would be. Bad enough they stripped him of his gear plus stole his horse and pack mule.
The descent was painful and fast. Near the bottom, he’d managed to roll under a stand of brush. He hoped he was out of sight in case they decided to use him for target practice. After that, he’d passed out.
He wasn’t giving up until he had that killer Lawson back in prison and on the way to the gallows. Fancy talk for a man without a penny to his name, no food, no water, who was afoot, injured—and who was near the bottom of a deep ravine. In addition, he was covered in mud, twigs, leaves, and who knew what else. Things weren’t looking good, but at least he wasn’t dead.
After testing his legs and wobbling to his knees, he found a lengthy branch. He used his knife to fashion it into a crutch-like walking stick. Rocks of all sizes and deadwood from tree trunks to twigs littered the ravine’s sandy base. The road above him was too steep a climb for now.
He’d been traveling a half hour when he spotted tracks of a wildcat headed the same direction as he was. This time of day he doubted a cat would be on the prowl. He sure didn’t want to risk being wrong.
His stick would be no defense against an angry wildcat. He didn’t want one close enough he could use his knife or the small gun in his boot. At least having the two weapons gave him some comfort.
Looking up toward the trail sent his head pounding worse and the world around him spinning. He leaned against a tree trunk and tried again. Searching above and forward of him, he spotted a place where he might handle the ascent.
Climbing was almost beyond his capability in his battered condition. He fell and skidded down on his stomach. He tried again, fell, but didn’t slide down as far this time.
The palms of his hands now matched the knuckles bruised and skinned from defending himself. He’d never been so filthy. He wasn’t sure but he thought that was blood staining the knees of his britches.
On his third try he reached the road and rested on the trunk of a dead tree. When he’d recovered enough to go on, the way was downhill. Unless he’d totally lost his bearings, the town in the little valley below was Wildcat Ridge. Likely Lawson and his two cohorts were holed up near or in the town.
By the time he hobbled to Wild
cat Ridge’s outskirts, dark had settled in. That was fine with him. If Lawson and his two friends were here, Adam didn’t want them to know he’d survived. First, he needed a place to recover.
A brisk wind swept down from the mountain to remind him he needed shelter soon. He didn’t need a reminder to know he needed food. If he had, the rumbles of his stomach would have served.
Still carrying his walking stick, he crept from shadow to shadow. Some of the houses appeared vacant. He didn’t dare check in case Lawson and his two henchmen might be camped in one. He was in no shape to meet those three now. Besides, he sure would appreciate some food.
Crystal Café caught his attention. The place appeared to be closed but light shone around the door from the dining room into the kitchen. He went to the back door. Sure enough, a lamp burned inside. Someone moving inside cast a shadow on the closed window curtains.
***
Garnet had cleaned the mess made from today’s meals, helped the children with their school lessons, fed them and herself, and was organizing for the next day. Hyacinth and Joey played checkers at the kitchen table.
Hyacinth clapped her hands. “Garnet, did you see? I won.”
“Congratulations, dear.” Garnet smiled at Joey, such a good boy. He made certain his sister won often enough to keep her interested.
A loud rap at the back door startled her. Because she kept the curtains closed unless they were serving food she couldn’t see who had knocked.
Joey grabbed his stick. “Don’t answer it. Might be the robber there.”
She wiped her hands on her apron. “Or a friend who needs something.” Joey didn’t know the Colt was in her apron pocket. After taking a deep, bracing breath and sliding her hand around the Colt, she opened the door.
The dirtiest man she’d ever seen stood there. His beard was as dirty as his clothes. Fresh cuts and bruises showed through the mud on his face. He was tall and broad-shouldered but looked as if he could barely stand.
“Ma’am, my name is Adam Bennett. Please don’t be put off by my appearance. I was robbed up the mountain a ways and lost all my gear. I’m mighty hungry. If you need anything done, I like to work for a meal.”
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