Mitch's Win (Montana Collection, Book 1) Page 16

  Though Mitch couldn’t see his brother, he heard his sobs increase and felt his body shake. “I’m so sorry, Mitch. I never meant to bring harm to Heather.”

  After a long moment, he finally said, “I know. I knew something wasn’t right, but I knew you wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”

  Once his tears subsided, he took a deep breath. “We’ll find her and get her back. I promise you I’ll help you if it’s the last thing I do.”

  There was no denying he could use his brother’s help. Between the two of them, they might get to her before any harm came to her. “Abe’s taking her to Canada?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  Scanning the room once more for something they could use to free themselves of the rope, he said, “Then we need to head up north.”

  “Abe lost all his money in a game the other night, so he’ll need to play poker soon to make up for that.”

  “You think he’ll go to a saloon this week?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  “Then we’ll need to search out the nearest saloons north of here,” Mitch said.

  “I can borrow a horse. We’d do better if we separated.”

  “Good point. But you don’t need to borrow a horse. I’ll let you have one of mine. I have two of them tied up out front. As soon as we get out of here, we can get them.”

  “I’ll need a doctor first, Mitch. When I grabbed your gun to shoot Abe, he got me in the arm instead.”

  He nodded. “We’ll get you to a doctor.” Once he decided they weren’t going to be able to free themselves of the rope, he added, “If we work together, maybe we can scoot our chairs to the door. Can you wiggle your chair over there?”

  “I think so. Want to try it?”

  “We got nothing to lose.”

  “Alright. Ready?”

  “Yep.”

  The two used their bodies to scoot their chairs toward the door, though their progress didn’t go as fast as Mitch would have liked. Halfway to the door, someone knocked and asked if everything was alright.

  “No!” Mitch called out. “We need help!”

  The door opened, and two men walked in, each holding a gun. “A lady said she heard a gunshot come from this room.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mitch replied and nodded toward Boaz. “He’s been shot in the arm.”

  The older man hurried over to Boaz to inspect his arm while the other one asked, “Who did this?”

  “Abe Curtiss,” Mitch replied. “He’s my brother-in-law. He,” he swallowed the lump in his throat, “kidnapped my wife.”

  “I’ll get the sheriff. We saw a man ride out of here in a hurry with a lady who looked like she’d been crying.”

  Mitch helped the man who was cutting into the rope to loosen them. “Was she wearing a green dress?”

  “Yes, she was.”

  “That’s my wife then. Did you see which direction they went?”

  “Northwest.”

  Good. Now Mitch had a good lead.

  “You go on ahead and find her, Mitch,” Boaz said. “I’ll go as soon as I can.”

  Mitch rose from the chair and shoved the rope aside. “I’ll leave my horse for you out front.”

  “We’ll need one of you to talk to the sheriff,” the man, who removed the rest of the rope from Boaz, said.

  “I’ll do that while the doctor tends to me,” Boaz offered. “Go on and get Heather, Mitch.”

  Thanking his brother and the men, Mitch hurried out of the room.

  ***

  Three days later

  Heather was tired and hungry. The jerky Abe had given her was barely enough to sustain her, and she hadn’t slept well. Twice, she’d tried to run away, but he caught her both times. At this point, she barely had enough energy to fight him. They were on the edge of some town, and he took her off the horse so he could put the cloak over her.

  “I don’t want to do this,” Heather pleaded, though she knew it wouldn’t do any good.

  “I won’t let anyone actually take you if I lose.” He buttoned the cloak then pulled the hood far enough over her face so no one could get a good look at her.

  “And how are you going to stop that from happening?” she snapped. “You weren’t able to do that before.”

  “That husband of yours didn’t let me take care of John Meyer. If he had, I would have gotten you back. No harm would’ve come to you.”

  “You’re a horrible man, Abe Curtiss. You would’ve let John soil me then throw me back to you so you could bet me in another game.”

  He gasped and pressed his hand to his chest. “I can’t believe you think that.”

  “Anyone who’d steal his sister from her husband won’t stop at anything to get what he wants, and all you want is money. No one else matters to you.”

  He leaned close enough to her so that their noses were touching. “That’s not very nice of you to say to your kin, Heather.”

  “And it’s not nice of you to do what you’re doing.”

  For a moment, she thought he was going to slap her, but he lifted her and placed her back on the horse, not being careful as he let go of her. She grabbed the saddle so she wouldn’t fall off. He hopped in front of her and snapped the reins. Though she didn’t want to touch him, she instinctively put her arms around his waist and held on.

  “You better not think that husband of yours is going to find you,” he called out as they rode forward. “I started out northwest but changed course to the east. Anyone who saw us will lead him in the wrong direction.”

  Using all the strength she had, she kicked him in the back of his calves.

  He didn’t give any indication that he noticed. Instead, he said, “You ought to be nice to me, Heather. If you aren’t, I might not return you to him.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. All he did was lie. No wonder her parents hadn’t told her much about him while she was growing up.

  They passed houses along the quiet night. Most people were asleep. She should be asleep, too. Asleep in bed with Mitch, safe and well loved. But instead she was on her way to a godforsaken saloon. When her brother led his horse up to the rowdy tavern, she tightened her grip around his waist. How she wished she was anywhere but here!

  Abe slid off the horse, and before she could grab the reins and ride off, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down. She stumbled, almost falling, but he set her on her feet and held onto her while he tied the reins to the post.

  “I won’t show anyone you’re a girl unless things get desperate in there,” he told her and tucked the hood of her cloak closer around her face. “I’ve done much to improve my game. We might not have to lower your hood.”

  His words did little to assure her. He was greedy, and as long as he was greedy, he was going to keep going until things did get desperate. When he tried to lead her forward, she shook her head and dug her heels into the dirt. She pushed away from him with all of her strength, but she was no match for him. He yanked her toward the boardwalk. Once they were at the entrance, he shoved her through the swinging doors.

  She managed to regain her footing before she ended up falling. The group of men in the round table closest to her laughed. She quickly pulled the hood lower over her forehead so they wouldn’t see her face.

  Abe came up beside her and nudged her in the back. “That table looks promising.”

  Through the smoky haze, she saw the round table further in the room where a group of three men played poker.

  “Come along,” he whispered, nudging her once more, harder this time.

  Gritting her teeth, she lifted the hem of her cloak and headed for the table, praying he would win the game without having to reveal her identity.

  Chapter Twenty

  Three hours later, Abe had a substantial amount of money by his side as he sorted through his cards. Heather released her breath and resisted the urge to wipe the sweat from her face. The summer night was hot enough but wearing the cloak made it nearly unbearable. Keeping her focus on the game helped take h
er mind off her discomfort. And as she watched Abe, she became aware that he was slipping cards under his sleeves, cards he later used to win his hands. She didn’t know whether to be appalled or relieved. While it meant he was cheating, it also gave her the only chance she had of getting through the evening unseen by the other men.

  Abe set two cards down on the table and threw a coin into the middle of the table. “I’ll take two cards.”

  Her gaze went to the remaining man left at the table. The other two men had long since lost their money and left the saloon. So now it was just Abe and the remaining man. From the looks of it, Abe was about to win what little was left of the man’s cash. With any luck, this would be the last game of the night. She clenched her hands together and watched as the man dealt two new cards to Abe who managed to exchange one for a card he had hidden beneath his sleeve.

  “Hey,” the man across from Abe barked, slamming his cards down on the table. “What’d you got under that sleeve?”

  Abe’s face grew pale. “Nothing. I just had an itch.”

  He narrowed his eyes at him and rose to his feet. Leaning forward, he said, “I bet. Let’s see you roll those sleeves up.”

  By now, a couple of men from a nearby table had stopped playing to watch what was going on. Heather bit her lower lip. Should she tell the man that Abe was cheating? If she did, would there be enough of a diversion so she could run out of the saloon and escape on Abe’s horse? She tightened her hold on the cloak and quickly debated the pros and cons of revealing Abe for the cheating scum he was.

  Abe let out an uneasy chuckle. “I’m not cheating.”

  “Then you won’t have trouble proving it,” the man insisted. “Let’s see those sleeves.”

  With a glance at the other men who were watching them, Abe shrugged. “Alright. Fine.” He held his arms up, the sleeves still reaching his wrists. “See?”

  “Roll ‘em up,” a man from the other table said, crossing his arms and glaring at him.

  “What? No.” Abe stood up. “Forget it. I’m out of here.”

  As her brother reached for the money to put into his bag, Heather lowered her voice and yelled out, “He’s lying! I saw him cheating!”

  Abe had just enough time to look in her direction before the man across from him struck him in the jaw. She ducked as her brother toppled to the floor. Seeing her chance to escape, she scurried under the table. Abe reached for her, but she kicked at his hands and crawled out into the open. She needed a bigger distraction!

  “I’m not done with you!” the man yelled at Abe and ran around the table.

  She rose to her feet as Abe dodged the man and headed for her. The other men moved aside to clear the way, but she needed them to block Abe before he could get her. For sure, he’d pull down her hood. Nothing would get their mind off a brawl like seeing a woman in their midst! She glanced around for something she could use to her advantage and saw an empty beer mug. As much as she hated to strike someone, she didn’t see what choice she had. She picked up the mug and knocked it into the head of the man who had his back turned to her. When he whirled around, she leapt out of his way so he saw Abe. The man ran after Abe and bumped into two men who fell over their table. From there, the brawl exploded, involving more and more men by the second.

  A gunshot rang through the air, and she darted under a table. Another gunshot went off, prompting her to crawl as fast as she could toward the swinging doors. Her progress was hindered when someone fell in her path, landing on his stomach in an unconscious heap. She screamed and tried to back up, but another gunshot went off, startling her.

  Someone shoved the man in front of her aside and knelt so he could see her. She nearly cried with relief when she saw it was Boaz. “We have to get out of here!” he yelled over the ruckus going on around them.

  She accepted his hand and wove through the fighting men. Once they were outside, she gasped, relieved to breathe fresh air. Boaz rushed her over to his horse in time for them to avoid a man who fell out of the saloon and onto the dusty road. She hesitated to take a good look at the fallen man, but someone shot him, directing her attention to him. Her breath caught in her throat. It was Abe, and he was sprawled on his back, blood trickling down his shirt, his face bruised. He groaned, and when he coughed, she saw blood dribble from his mouth.

  “Don’t look,” Boaz told her, turning her so she was facing the saddle on his horse. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  She obeyed, squeezing her eyes shut and willing the image of her fallen brother from her mind. For as long as she lived, she didn’t think she’d ever forget the scared look in his eyes.

  After a minute, Boaz returned to her. “Your brother won’t bother you anymore.”

  “He told you that?” she asked.

  He shook his head and unwrapped the reins from the post. When he gathered the reins in his hand, he took her by the arm and led her and the horse further down the road in the opposite direction of her brother. “He’s dead. Whoever shot him had good aim.”

  Once they were safely away from the saloon, she got on the horse and helped him up. He led the horse forward, and she hung onto him. In all the excitement, she had forgotten to remove her cloak, but she’d worry about that later. Right now, she was relieved to be heading back home. Back to Mitch, Gerty, Leroy and Hannah. Back to where she belonged.

  They rode in silence for twenty minutes before she finally whispered, “Am I wrong for being glad my brother’s dead?”

  A moment passed between them before he said, “I don’t think so. Considering everything he did, I’d say what you’re feeling is normal. Now you know he won’t hurt you anymore.”

  With a nod, she rested her head against his back and closed her eyes. And this time, she wasn’t haunted by the image of Abe on the dusty road.

  ***

  One year later

  “Would you like another piece of pie, Boaz?” Heather offered at the supper table.

  “No thanks.” Boaz patted his stomach. “I can’t eat anything else.” Smiling, he looked at Leroy and Hannah who sat next to him. “You two think you can eat another slice?”

  “No,” Hannah replied at the same time Leroy said, “Yes.”

  Next to Heather, Gerty chuckled and scooped up a small slice of cherry pie to put on Leroy’s plate. “This is all you’ll get tonight, young man,” she said when Leroy frowned at the portion she gave him. “I don’t want you to wake up with a stomach ache in the middle of the night.”

  Mitch, who sat on Heather’s other side, picked up his plate. “I wouldn’t mind another slice since there’s one left, unless you want it,” he told Heather. “You haven’t had a slice yet.”

  She shook her head and smiled. “No. It’s hard to eat anything right now. I did good to have the soup.”

  Gerty patted her shoulder and grinned. “In seven months when you’re holding your baby, you won’t even think about how hard it is to eat right now.”

  “I know.” Heather glanced at Mitch, her smile growing wider as she recalled his excitement when she told him she was going to have his child in February. “At least we still have time to think of a name.”

  “We’ll come up with one,” Mitch assured her. “Some people don’t even figure out a name until the baby’s born.”

  “That’s the truth of it,” Gerty agreed. “And don’t be surprised if you think you settle for a name only to change it when the baby comes. When I was expecting Boaz, I was sure his name would be Samuel. Then on the day he was born, I took one look at him and knew he was meant to be Boaz.”

  “As long as we don’t change the name after the child is a year old, that’s the important thing,” Mitch said. “You don’t want to confuse the poor boy or girl.”

  “Why did you call me Leroy?” Leroy asked Boaz before he bit into a piece of pie.

  Boaz set his cloth napkin on the table and turned toward him. “Your ma’s father had that name, and she wanted to name you after him to honor his memory.”

  “Wha
t about me?” Hannah asked.

  A flicker of sorrow crossed his face, but he smiled at her. “You’re named after your ma.”

  “Was Ma nice?” Leroy wondered.

  “Yes, yes she was. She was nice just like your aunt and grandma are.” He turned to Heather and Mitch. “I have to be at the mercantile when it opens tomorrow. Eugene wants me to deliver some supplies to the restaurant first thing. But first, I was wondering if I could talk to you in the parlor?”

  Heather glanced at Gerty who motioned for them to go to the other room. “I can clean up. You kids go ahead.”

  With a nod, Heather stood up with Mitch and followed Boaz to the parlor where he grabbed his hat from the hook by the door.

  “What is it, Boaz?” Mitch asked, his voice low. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, not wrong.” He held his hat in one hand and ran his other hand through his hair. After a moment, he glanced between Mitch and Heather. “I was wondering if you’d let Leroy and Hannah live with me? I’ve been working at the mercantile for almost a year, and I haven’t touched any alcohol or gambled.”

  “But you need to be at work,” Heather replied. “Do you want your ma to live with you and care for them during the day?”

  “Well, no.” His fingers ran along the edges of his hat. “I know Ma has a hard time taking care of them without you there to help her. I was thinking of getting married. Then my wife would care for them while I’m at work.”

  “It’s a wonderful idea,” Mitch began, “but do you know how hard it is to find a wife when you already have children? If it weren’t for Heather falling down from heaven when she did, I’d still be alone.”

  Her cheeks warmed in pleasure at the way Mitch had likened her to an angel.

  “It’s not impossible,” Boaz said. “There are mail-order brides. Advertisements just came in today at the mercantile.”

  “That’s true,” Mitch granted. “But it’s harder to get one to come all the way out here than you think. Most of them want to be in bigger towns.”