Desperate Hearts (13 page)

Five more days passed. Elizabeth saw nothing of Mitch, who sent Randy to her with a message that he’d left for Virginia City, where Sam Wiley would be jailed, sentenced by a judge there, and likely be sent to a prison farther east. Mitch had taken two men with him to testify as to what Sam did, adamant that Elizabeth herself would not have to go and testify. He wanted Sam Wiley jailed and out of the way, anxious for things to get back to normal, whatever normal was for a place like
Alder.

Elizabeth worried about him the whole time he was gone. Hugh and Sam had other friends who now probably hated Mitch. She just hoped that if and when Sam Wiley ever got out of jail, he would stay away from Alder. The preacher who’d presided over the hanging had left town, and the last five days had been relatively quiet, other than the street noises Elizabeth was beginning to get used to. She’d enjoyed a more welcome rest than anything she’d experienced since her spectacular arrival here. She took advantage of the chance to let her shoulder heal more and to stay away from staring eyes. Since the excitement of the hanging died down, she hoped the curiosity over why she was here would also die
down.

For these past five days there was only Ma Kelly to talk to. Even the other boarders were never around much, except at breakfast, and they were for the most part respectful toward her and didn’t ask too many questions. In fact, all three of the original boarders had left, and two new men had moved in, both of them just looking for jobs in town. None stayed long enough to get well acquainted, and that was fine with
Elizabeth.

For any who tried to pry into Elizabeth’s business or gave a hint of wanting to take her out on the town, Ma Kelly promptly set them straight. Doc Wilson had supper with them one evening at Ma’s invitation. Elizabeth enjoyed the visit, but she’d not asked much about Mitch, not wanting the doctor to think she cared one way or the other about the man. Her only other visitor had been the lawyer, Carl Jackson, who came calling one day unexpectedly. Ma turned him away, and after he left Ma warned her that Jackson was not a man she should encourage, voicing her opinion that the man was “as crooked as they come.” Between that remark and Mitch’s poor opinion of the man, Elizabeth was perfectly happy to see him turned away at the
door.

It was Mitch Brady who gave her restless thoughts and attracted her in ways she’d rather not admit. She’d not come here to find a man, and after what she’d left behind, she doubted she’d ever allow a man to touch her anyway…not even Mitch Brady. Love and trust were two things she’d likely never experience again. Still, Mitch stirred emotions she didn’t think she’d ever feel. And he’d brought her those
roses…

Again, unwanted memories slammed her heart and thoughts, always hitting her unexpectedly, always alarming, always depressing. In the nine days she’d been here in Alder, she’d managed more and more to push away the events that brought her here, push away the memory of Alan Radcliffe and his brutality, push away the memory of her mother’s cruel death…and the fact that she’d not been able to say good-bye.

She blinked back tears and took a deep breath.
Not
today. Not today.
An explosion from one of the bigger mines in the surrounding mountains helped bring her thoughts to the present. The sudden rumbles made the small boardinghouse shake, but they no longer startled Elizabeth. Each explosion was a signal that some mine owner was going deeper into the mountains. She’d learned a little about how it all worked, and now she was curious to see it for herself. She figured she’d do just that when Mitch took her through the various settlements scattered along Alder Gulch to see about
teaching.

That day had come. Yesterday Randy delivered the message that Mitch was back and was coming today to take her outside of town for some shooting practice. They would also visit some of the settlements in the gulch, and she’d prepared some handwritten flyers to give out to families, telling them where to find her if they wanted their child to get some
schooling.

She studied herself in the mirror, wearing the first dress Sarah had managed to finish for her. It was made of the brown cotton material with tiny yellow flowers in the pattern. Elizabeth was impressed with Sarah’s abilities as a seamstress. The dress fit well; it was a one-piece princess style with buttons from the top of the slightly scooped neck all the way down the front to the very bottom of the hemline. Dropped shoulders led to long sleeves that fit loosely, the neckline and sleeves designed for the hot July days. Because of the heat, Elizabeth wore only one petticoat, which left the skirt hanging almost
straight.

Following Elizabeth’s instructions, there were no embellishments on the dress. Here in Alder it just wasn’t practical to dress in lace and ruffles and a pile of petticoats and jewelry. She’d twisted her hair into a large round bun at the back of her head, held with plain combs, and she wore tiny drop earrings, just a touch of rouge, and nothing more in the way of extra jewelry or
makeup.

She pinned on a small straw hat, glad to have unexpectedly discovered hats in a general store. She’d gone out shopping only once, accompanied by Ma Kelly, Randy Olson always hanging nearby, according to Mitch’s instructions. Elizabeth appreciated the fact that his presence, as well as Ma Kelly’s, helped keep strangers away, but part of her still hated being
followed.

She heard the front door open, then heard voices. It irked her that she was actually excited to see Mitch again, but she couldn’t stop the emotions he stirred in her. She smoothed her dress and picked up the derringer from where she’d laid it on the bed. She put it into her drawstring handbag, picked up one box of ammunition and a few of her flyers, and walked out and down the back stairs, where she nearly ran into Ma
Kelly.

“Mitch is here, dear,” she told Elizabeth, looking her over. “You look lovely, Elizabeth.” She gave Elizabeth a sly
smile.

“Ma, don’t be making something out of
nothing.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’m doing that at all.” Ma chuckled and walked into the kitchen, and Elizabeth went down the hall into the parlor. Mitch Brady’s tall, broad presence seemed to fill up the room, and there was no way Elizabeth could miss the pleased look in his blue eyes when she came closer. Part of her was happy to see him, and part of her wished she’d not taken so much care about how she looked
today.

“I…Sarah made this dress for me. Is it plain enough? I mean…I don’t want to be out of place when we’re going out to shoot guns and visit mining
camps.”

Mitch grinned. “You look
perfect.”

She felt naked under his
gaze.

“But then how could you
not
look
perfect?”

Damn, if he didn’t look more handsome than ever himself. He wore dark pants with a blue shirt that matched his eyes, a leather vest with a badge on it, a small red cotton scarf around his neck, and, of course, the ever-present six-guns on crisscrossed gun belts. “You always look ready for a small war,” she told
him.

He flashed the handsome smile that only accented his full lips and his tanned, clean-shaven face. “If all I was going to do is sit in the parlor like last time, I would have left the guns off. But a lawman headed for Alder Gulch has to be ready for
anything.”

“I’ve already seen why you need them.” Elizabeth struggled not to show her secret pleasure at seeing him again. She reminded herself of his size, and the fact that he was, after all, a man…and one who was no stranger to violence. When Alan Radcliffe married her mother, he’d seemed like a nice man, too. And he’d been tall and handsome and charming…and cunning. Could Mitch Brady be cunning? If he knew about the valuable necklace she owned, would he be attracted to her only because he wanted to get his hands on it? Knowing about the necklace could change him
completely.

“I’m glad you made it back here fine and healthy. I was a little worried about you taking Sam Wiley to Virginia
City.”

“Well, it all worked out fine and he’s likely already on his way to prison.” He looked her over again in that way he had. “I hope you got plenty of rest while I was
gone.”

“I did. I’ve stayed right here, away from all the bustle out there in the streets. I did go shopping once with Ma Kelly, and your young friend followed us around like a puppy. I really don’t need so much guarding now, Mitch. People in this town are getting used to me, and all the craziness over how I arrived has mostly gone away, from what I can
tell.”

Mitch put on a wide-brimmed hat. “Maybe so, but you’re still going to be a curiosity for several weeks, and there will still be times when you might be glad you have that gun. Did you put it in your
handbag?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, sir.” She handed over the box of bullets. “And I brought these. I also have a few flyers I’d like to hand out if I get the
chance.”

Mitch took the box of bullets and headed for the door. “Well, let’s get going then. I borrowed a buggy from Doc Wilson. Couldn’t find a sidesaddle, so I figured the buggy would be best, especially since that shoulder of yours is probably still hurting. I’m not much for riding in a buggy, but I’ll put up with it
today.”

“I appreciate
that.”

Mitch opened the door and Elizabeth stepped outside, going down the steps and climbing into the buggy, which she was glad to see had a top on it that would shade them from the hot sun. She noticed Mitch had tied his own big roan gelding to the back of the carriage. Was he wanting to be prepared to go charging after some outlaw if need be? She decided not to ask. He came around and climbed into the buggy beside her, picking up the reins and slapping the rump of the big black mare hitched to the vehicle to get the horse into
motion.

Elizabeth shoved her flyers into a leather pocket at one side of the buggy, then held on to a seat railing as Mitch drove the buggy out of town and past staring eyes. A few men whistled and a couple of them made remarks about Mitch Brady getting the prettiest girl in
town.

“Ignore the remarks,” he told
Elizabeth.

“I’m trying my
best.”

He glanced sideways at her. “You
are
the prettiest girl in town, though.”

Elizabeth stared straight ahead. “Thank you for the compliment, but this isn’t a courting trip, I hope you know. You’re going to show me how to use my gun and you’re escorting me to some of the mining camps so I can hand out my flyers. That’s it. Nothing
more.”

“Oh, I assure you, I don’t consider this courting either. Just keeping a promise to teach you how to use that gun and introduce you to a few people in the gulch. Believe me, when I court you, you’ll know that’s what it
is.”

His closeness upset Elizabeth in ways it shouldn’t. The buggy was so small, their legs couldn’t help but touch. “This is a one-passenger buggy, isn’t it?” she
commented.

“It was all I could find. If you want to ride, we can go back and saddle a
horse.”

“No, thank you. This will
do.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Elizabeth caught the sarcasm in his answer. She wanted to hit him and make him take her back to Ma’s place, but she needed to learn how to use her
gun.

She had to keep her guard up. Most men wanted only two things—women and money. If both things were wrapped into one package, all the better. Love was not part of the equation. Such feelings meant nothing to a man. She must remember that. She stared straight ahead as Mitch drove the buggy out of town and toward the
mountains.

On her journey West, Elizabeth had been so fearful of being found and dragged back to New York that she’d not paid a lot of attention to the landscape. Rather, she’d huddled inside trains and stagecoaches, trying her best not to draw attention to herself. Even when she rode horseback to Alder after the accident, she’d been so shaken and in so much pain that she did little more than just follow behind Mitch, in no mood to look around. After that, there had only been
Alder.

Now that she had a chance to truly feel safe and feel free to notice her surroundings, she marveled at the immensity of the yellow-grass valley through which they rode, feeling tiny and insignificant compared to the endless horizon to the north and south of the little winding dirt road. An array of colorful wildflowers were sprinkled amid the yellow grass, creating a view that almost looked like a painting. Mitch headed the buggy into hillier country beyond which lay mountains that rose up in a looming wall that made her wonder at the bravery it took to go into them and try to
settle.

“Do you like this valley?” Mitch asked
her.

“Yes, it’s beautiful. I like all the wildflowers. But it’s so big! I feel swallowed
up.”

They passed a huge supply wagon coming down out of the gulch, and Mitch nodded to the
driver.

“I love this place,” he told her. “It’s magnificent country, and a man can be as free as he wants out here, settle where he
wants.”

“Do you think much about
settling?”

Mitch reached down and broke off a piece of tall grass, putting it between his lips to chew on it. “Sure I do. But I wasn’t raised to know much about family life, so I’m not sure I’d be very good at it.” He glanced at her. “A man needs just the right woman for
that.”

Elizabeth looked away. “I’ve heard Montana referred to as big-sky country,” she
commented.

“It certainly fits,” Mitch answered. “It’s only been an official territory for a couple of years, and right now Virginia City is the capital. You probably didn’t pay much attention when you were on the stagecoach, but from Virginia City on north and west there are settlements scattered all over because of the gold mining. This is one of the few more open areas, but soon we’ll head into the mining area where there is a streambed off the Ruby River and settlements that stretch for a good ten miles. If you wanted to see it all, we’d have to stay somewhere the next couple of nights. There are a couple of rooming places in small settlements throughout the gulch. The gulch runs for about fourteen miles, with little towns, if you want to call them that, situated all along the
creek.”

“I think if we go that far, it should be another time. I didn’t come prepared to stay
overnight.”

Mitch nodded. “Miles of mining through the gulch is why I’m sometimes gone for days at a time. Vigilantes are pretty much the law in Montana Territory, and wherever there is gold, there are men willing to try to steal it, or steal someone else’s claim, or rob the supply wagons that take the gold to and from Virginia
City.”

They passed more wagons and riders coming out of the
gulch.

“If and when I settle, I figured I would take up ranching, maybe settle somewhere in this valley, but like I said, I wasn’t raised to know how to do that, especially how to be a
father.”

Elizabeth wasn’t sure what to say. The man was opening up a little more to her. Why?

“Do you have family back in St. Louis, or wherever you’re really from?” he asked
then.

I’m from New York, just like you.
Elizabeth thought about the normal, happy family life she’d once known. “I have no family—never had siblings, and both my parents are
dead.”

“How’d they
die?”

“You’re asking too many
questions.”

Mitch sighed. “Just trying to make conversation, that’s all. My own pa was never around much before he drank himself to death. My mother was…” He paused. “Let’s just say she had it rough. She was finally beat to death…right in front of me when I was too little to stop
it.”

The air suddenly hung too silent. Elizabeth was stunned at what he’d just told her. They had both watched their mothers die right before their eyes. She felt a new connection to the man. Part of her wanted to tell him about her own experience. Surely Mitch Brady would understand… But there was always the fear of Alan Radcliffe finding her and painting a very different picture. “I…I’m so sorry,” she told
him.

He reined the horse to a halt. “So am I. I didn’t mean to tell you something so ugly and so soon.” He sighed, staring at the landscape ahead. “Being around you makes me want to talk, and I have no idea why. At any rate, I shouldn’t have told you that, but the fact remains that life was never very normal for me when my mother was alive, and then after she died, I just grew up a homeless kid fighting his way through life. So like I said, I know next to nothing about a normal family life other than what I’ve seen at times in other families…and what I sometimes daydream about. I guess all men at some time in their lives think about settling, taking a wife and
all.”

Elizabeth was beginning to realize that the way his mother died was something that deeply affected Mitch Brady, leading to his apparent need to defend women. It began to dawn on her then that whatever else Mitch Brady might be, he was not a man who would ever beat on a woman. After living with the likes of Alan Radcliffe and seeing the bruises on her mother, terror over the possibility of marrying such a man herself had made Elizabeth vow to never marry at all. She never saw the beatings. It always happened when she wasn’t around…until that one fateful
night.

“I think every man has a right to settle and marry,” she told Mitch. “Maybe, because of how you grew up, you’d make a better father than most men, because you know how you would like that kind of life to
be.”

Mitch nodded. “Maybe.” He turned to meet her eyes for a moment…close, so close, still sitting side by side in the buggy. For one quick moment she thought the man was going to lean in and kiss her, but he turned away again and snapped the reins. “Up ahead there is an area where there is plenty of loose rock, just before we head into the deeper part of Alder Gulch. We’ll stop there and do some practice
shooting.”

They passed a sagging sod house beside a stream a couple hundred yards to their
right.

“That’s Moss Hillinbert,” Mitch told her. “Pans for gold all day long beside that stream. He’s alone there. He left a wife back East somewhere, like most men who live all along the gulch. Most of those living here are poor people hoping to strike it rich, a lot of them people who lost everything in the war. Some have already struck it rich and sold their claims to even richer men who have the means to actually mine it the right way. Of course, those rich men don’t live around here. They just do the investing from someplace back East and pay men to come out here and oversee everything, hire men to go into the mountains and hack their way through veins of gold and run it through stamp mills and such. It gets pretty complicated. Most of the richest miners live in Virginia City, getting richer from supplying the miners up here in the
gulch.”

An explosion in the mountains ahead rumbled through the air like thunder. “Most men who come out here looking for their dreams don’t realize how much is involved in actually extracting enough gold to make big money,” Mitch
continued.

“You’re not interested in looking for
gold?”

Mitch shrugged. “Not really. Being rich doesn’t mean much to me. Just being happy is all that matters, and having enough to eat and a place to
sleep.”

Being
rich
doesn’t mean much to me.
How unlike the man Elizabeth was hiding from. Were there really men in this world who actually married for love, who didn’t rule over their wives like prison wardens, and who really wanted a happy family life and
children?

She shook away the questions that raced through her mind as Mitch approached an area of huge boulders, below which lay scattered rocks. The horse pulling the buggy shied a little when another explosion rumbled in the
mountains.

“Settle down, boy,” Mitch soothed. He climbed out of the buggy and tied the animal to a lonely pine tree that had somehow managed to find life beneath the rocky landscape. Elizabeth had to wonder how anything grew from such hard ground, yet for most of their ride from Alder she’d noticed thick shrubbery and even large groves of trees along the
gulch.

“What kind of trees are those tall ones I’ve
seen?”

“Alder trees. That’s how this area got its name. The short, bushy kind are what mostly grows all through here, but gray alder grows all over these hills, too. In the spring the leaves look more purple—a pretty sight against the blue skies and greener
grass.”

Elizabeth was surprised that the big, tall, rugged Mitch Brady noticed such
things.

“Climb down and get your gun out. I’ll show you how to load and shoot it,” Mitch told her. He looked around. “Won’t be more than six weeks or so when cold weather will start moving in. You’ll have to practice closer in to town then. I brought you out here so you wouldn’t draw so much attention for now.” He came closer, towering over her in that way he had, making her feel both protected and intimidated. She was never quite sure which way she should take being alone with Mitch Brady. “You should know that Montana winters can be pretty
rough.”

“I’ve known some pretty bad winters,” she answered, reaching back to the buggy seat for her handbag and the small box of
bullets.

“In St. Louis?”

There he was again, trying to pry information out of her. Elizabeth realized she’d almost given something away with her remark, and she was angry with herself. It was New York winters she’d known. “It gets plenty cold in St. Louis,” she
answered.

Mitch led her over to a spot where there were some flat rocks. “You haven’t known snow and cold until you’ve spent a winter in Montana, believe me. The settlements all along the gulch get snowed in, and some people nearly starve to death because supplies can’t get through. The price of food supplies go up so high, people can’t afford it. Last winter there were some raids on some of the stores and men like me were busy trying to keep the peace.” He left her side to pick up some medium-sized rocks and set them on top of the flat
rocks.

“I’ll survive,” Elizabeth answered, secretly hoping they
would
get snowed in. Being buried here for the winter meant it was even less likely the wrong people would ever find her. They at least wouldn’t be able to get through to
her.

Mitch came back to her side, looking around again in a watchful way. “Sometimes Indians will wander this way. That’s another danger here, but mostly down along the Bozeman Trail. The Sioux are not at all happy that we’ve come into their land to look for gold. There has been a lot of trouble, but not so much around here. We also have to keep an eye out for bears, mainly
grizzlies.”

“Are you trying to scare me, Mitch
Brady?”

Mitch grinned. That smile was full of such bold handsomeness that Elizabeth had to look away in an effort to control the attraction she felt toward him. “I’m only trying to make sure you know what you’ve gotten yourself into,” he told her. “That way you can’t say I didn’t warn
you.”

“I learned what I was getting myself into the day my stage was
attacked.”

Mitch put his hand out. “Give me that gun and let’s get to work learning how to shoot it
then.”

Elizabeth put the gun into his
hand.

“I do have to tell you that the only way this thing will put a man down is if he’s really close. Don’t try firing at him if he’s several feet away. You won’t do much damage, and this thing won’t be very accurate at any kind of distance. And believe me, it sure as hell won’t bring down a
grizzly.”

“Well then I’ll be sure to stay away from bears, and I’ll make sure to let a man get really close before I put a hole in his
belly.”

Mitch frowned, meeting her gaze again. “Why do I feel like that remark was meant for
me?”

Now Elizabeth had to smile. “Maybe because it
was
…you and any other man who gets wrong ideas about
me.”

“Well then, I’ll make sure I have your permission before I get too close.” He gave her a sly grin. “Hand me some of those bullets and I’ll show you how to load this
thing.”

Elizabeth obeyed, watching carefully as he demonstrated how to detach the short barrel and put a .32 rimfire into each of the barrel’s four chambers. He reattached the
barrel.

“Most handguns have a revolving chamber,” he explained. He removed one of his own revolvers and spun the chamber to show her, explaining the mechanics of his .44 Colt. Elizabeth jumped slightly when he shot at some of the rocks he’d set up, blowing them to pieces in quick succession and seemingly without even needing to aim. Elizabeth wondered, between spending time in the war and then as a lawman and vigilante, how many men he’d actually
killed.

Mitch handed her his own gun and took her derringer. “Get a feel of it. If the day ever comes you need to grab a gun like mine and use it, you’ll know what to expect as far as its weight. There is one bullet left in it, if you want to try shooting
it.”

“If you say so.” Elizabeth used both hands to raise the revolver. “It
is
heavy! How on earth do you draw and shoot this thing with one
hand?”

“Takes
practice.”

“And a lot more
strength.”

Elizabeth held out the gun and Mitch wrapped a big hand around her own two hands. “Don’t just pull the trigger quick. Squeeze it. And keep your arms out
straight.”

He let go, and Elizabeth squinted and tried her best to take aim, but it was hard to hold the heavy gun steady. She envisioned one of the rocks as Alan Radcliffe and she pulled the trigger. The gun kicked much harder than she expected. “Ouch!” she exclaimed. “That actually hurt my hand. And it’s so loud,” she told Mitch, her ears still ringing from his own first shots. She gladly handed his bigger gun back to him. “Here. I’ll stick to my little
pepperbox.”