Frontier Highlander Vow of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 4) (13 page)

His new clothing was supposed to be ready by one o’clock, so he hurried to the tailor’s shop to try the garments on in case they needed any final alterations.

“Mon ami, it is magnificent!” the tailor exclaimed after Bear had donned the new garments.

Bear wasn’t sure he wanted to look ‘magnificent’ but as he admired the clothing in the mirror, he did think he now had the appearance of a proper gentleman for perhaps the first time in his life. He hoped Artis would like the new look. But what if she didn’t? What if he she thought he looked like a dandy? He frowned at himself in the mirror.

After several minutes of encouragement from the tailor, he decided there was only one way to find out. He would wear the new clothing to the ball. He paid the tailor and told him he’d be back later to put the clothing back on after he went to the bath house and the barber again.

Next, he left his tall brown leather boots at the cobbler for new soles and a good polish. The cobbler assured him that in short order he could make them look like new. He preferred wearing moccasins for hunting, but boots were better for other chores and more formal dress.

Then he set out for Henderson & Co., the general store. His last task
was the most important. If he could, he wanted to find a luckenbooth brooch. The heart-shaped pin was the traditional Scottish symbol of love and the emblem of commitment and union between a man and woman.

Tonight at the ball, he would ask Artis to marry him.

He realized he’d only met her four days ago, and that was counting today, but he was certain he could spend four years getting to know her, and he would not love her any more. Not only did he love her, he liked her—a lot. Their friendship had blossomed along with their love.

His heart told him Artis was the woman he’d been looking for. They were destined to meet and destined to be together. He’d set out on this quest, with the desire for a wife in his heart, just one week ago. And God wasted no time in answering. He wasn’t jesting when He said,
‘Ask and ye shall receive.’

He had always been an excellent judge of character and Artis showed every indication that she was a person of virtue and goodness. As he rode over to the store, he mentally itemized her traits. His heart thumped a little quicker with each quality he listed. He arrived at the general store, even more convinced that she was the love of his life. A quiver of affection for her filled his chest as he reached for the store’s door.

“Good day, Mister MacKee,” the apron-wearing shop owner Daniel Breedhead called as he entered. “What can I help you with today?”

Bear had purchased several items from the man in the past and enjoyed visiting the teeming shop that smelled of cinnamon, coffee, leather, and a dozen other scents blending together in a way unique to this particular establishment.

Shelves, crammed full, held an enticing array of commodities and several glass cases contained Breedhead’s most valuable items. Bear approached the cases. “Mister Breedhead, I have what may be an unusual request. I am lookin’ for a luckenbooth brooch. Do ye happen to have one?”

“I do. And a lovely pin it is. There are so many Scots in Kentucky, I
make it a point to always have one on hand or on order.” Breedhead took it out of the glass case and handed it to Bear.

The gleaming silver brooch could only be described as stunning—the design consisted of a crown, symbolizing loyalty to the loved one, just as a Scot pledged fidelity to their king or queen. The crown rested above two intertwined hearts. The silversmith’s work was skillfully done and several stones of blue and green added color. The stones would match the MacKay tartan of her shawl!

“It’s perfect!” he told Breedhead.

“Who is the lucky lady?” the store owner asked.

Bear didn’t want to mention a name until he’d asked Artis. News traveled fast in town. “She’s the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“No wonder you need a gift this exquisite,” Breedhead said.

“Aye, she deserves this and more. And if she says yes, I intend to give it to her.”

The door slammed open and banged against the wall. Breedhead and Bear both looked up.

Three men stomped their way into the store, pistols drawn, their manner threatening. The features of the balding man in front twisted with menace. The grimy faces of the other two appeared just as sinister.

Bear tossed the brooch down and reached for his pistols.

All three men raised their weapons and pointed them directly at Bear. He froze and held his hands steady, just above his flintlocks. He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes as he stared at the three, studying each one. He sensed an undercurrent of wildness and cruelty coming from all of them, but especially the balding man.

None of the men bothered to threaten Breedhead, who stood cowering nearby. “What do you want?” the shop owner asked, his voice shaking.

The robber who remained standing near the front door answered. “We want your currency, powder, lead, and whatever else you have of value,”
the man with greasy black hair said.

The one with a balding head came close to the display case Bear stood next to. “And we’ll take everything in these two cases, including this pretty bauble,” he said, picking up the luckenbooth Bear had just held, and examining it.

Bear felt his jaw tighten a little more. “I think not.”

“You think not?” the third man said mockingly, inclining his curly-haired head toward Bear and moving closer. “Do you not see there are three of us?”

“Aye. And the three of you could drop your balls and let them hang, but even then ye will na take that brooch, or rob this store this day.”

Breedhead reached over and placed a hand on Bear’s arm. “Mister MacKee, that brooch is not worth losing your life, Sir. And neither is anything else I have. It’s my loss and I’m willing to take it. If you gentlemen will just wait right here, I’ll go get all the money I have in the store and a bag for the other items.” Breedhead left for his back room.

Bear continued to keep his eyes trained on the three men, his hands hovering just above his pistols. He towered over the three thieves, but they all looked rough and well-seasoned to fighting. They’d probably been roaming Kentucky, settlement to settlement, robbing as they went, and who knows what else.

“What do you say we have a little fun and cut this one up a bit while the shopkeep is getting our money?” the bald one suggested to his cohorts. “Put your weapons on the floor, giant, including the one in your boot. We’ll take your weapons too.”

The other two drew huge skinning knives with their free hands and stepped a foot or two closer, their eyes gleaming with open hostility.

Bear glared at the men letting the venom of his wrath leak from his eyes.

The robbers instinctively stopped in their tracks.

He left his hands, and his weapons, where they were. “I’d advise ye three to leave now. Unless, of course, ye have a yen to die today.”

“Is that your great big horse tied out front?” the balding man asked. “I could use a horse like that.”

Bear didn’t respond. He just narrowed his eyes at the man and waited.

The balding fellow shook his head and told the third man, “This giant’s so dumb, he doesn’t know if he’s horseback or afoot.” Then he picked up the pin and held it in front of Bear.

“Put the brooch down,” Bear warned through clenched teeth.

“No,” the man countered with a mocking smile on his face.

“I’ve given ye three brigands fair notice,” he growled. “Leave or die. I will not let ye take that brooch, my weapons, or anythin’ else from this store.”

“So you like this pretty trinket do you big fella? Here Roger, take this for your lady friend. Maybe it’ll get an ugly chap like you a willing instead of a forced frolic in the hay.” The man tossed the pin across the room to the laughing dark-haired man.

As the brooch left the man’s hand, Bear’s right pistol flew out and powder exploded from the weapon’s pan. The lead hit the balding man in the side of the head before his hand tossing the brooch fully dropped down.

Bear’s left pistol followed the other instantly, killing the still chuckling dark-haired man before his outstretched hand could catch the luckenbooth.

The stunned third fellow fired his weapon just as Bear dropped to the floor and rolled. He came up with his hatchet drawn and planted it in the man’s chest. “
Manu Forti
,” he hissed into the man’s face, “with a strong hand.”

A gasp escaped the dying man and his eyes drained of life before he dropped to the floor.

Breedhead appeared at his storeroom door and eyes wide, gawked at Bear. He swallowed hard. “I didn’t think you would still be standing. I
heard the shots and was sure you would be dead.”

“Nay,” he said and began reloading his pistols.

“I’m glad I was out of harm’s way, but I wish I’d been here to see that,” Breedhead said, his voice unsteady. “How did you get them to leave? Did you fire three warning shots?”

“I sent them to hell,” he replied. “Tis where the weasels belong.”

The shop owner took a few steps forward and caught sight of the bodies bleeding into the wooden floor of his store. He took in a quick breath of utter astonishment. “My God!” he whispered, and held a shaking hand to his mouth. Breedhead stepped over the dead bodies as he made his way to the front door and turned the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’ and then pulled the door’s simple curtain together with his shaking hands.

“Mister Breedhead, help me haul these bodies out yer back door. There’s na need to frighten the women and children on the street. We’d better slip an oil cloth under them or yer floor will be further stained with blood.”

While Breedhead got the oil cloth, Bear reclaimed his hatchet and wiped it well on the dead man’s breeches.

The two of them soon had the bodies laid out and covered behind the Henderson & Co. building. Bear scowled as he stared down at the three. The only thing he hated more than killing was dying.

“Go tend to moppin’ yer floors before a customer arrives, and I’ll fetch Deputy Mitchell. Sheriff Wyllie is at Whisperin’ Hills just now and is not due to come into town until just before the ball.”

“How will I ever repay you?” Breedhead asked, his pale forehead and upper lip covered with sweat.

“Could ye find that pin and save it for me until I get back? The bald man tossed it toward the dark-haired man by your front door.”

“Of course, and there will be no need to pay for it. You saved me far more than the price of the brooch today.”

“Nay, I’ll pay for it. But ye can bestow what it costs upon the needy and elderly if ye like.”

“Indeed, I will Mister MacKee. Indeed. And I’ll polish the pin up and put it in a gift box for you. Do you want a ribbon on it?”

“Aye.”

“What colors?”

“One green and one blue, if ye have them. I’ll be back shortly,” he said and turned toward the Fort.

Bear could not believe he’d just had to kill three thieves. This day was not going as he’d planned. Now he would have to spend at least an hour explaining to the deputy what happened and help the young man take care of the bodies. And his buckskin hunting shirt and leather breeches were a mess too. Splattered blood covered his clothing. He growled to himself as he walked.

But he cheered when he remembered he’d found the ideal gift for Artis when he proposed tonight.

A smile replaced his scowl.

Chapter 15

B
ear heard snores even before he unlatched the door and stormed into William’s office. “Deputy, wake up!” he roared.

The young man sat with his legs propped up on William’s desk and his tricorne covering his face.

“Yer sleepin’ on the job man, and the sheriff will na be too keen on that!” Bear knocked the deputy’s feet off the desk and gave the fellow a severe scowl, but instantly regretted it. He often found it easier to stand up to his enemies than he did to his friends.

Mitchell’s shoulders slumped. His slouching body proclaimed his embarrassment.

“Do na worry, I will na tell the sheriff. But don’t ever let me, or William, catch you sleepin’ on the job again. There’s a world of bad men out there and ye must stay alert and watchful. In yer profession, ye must be vigilant and ready for anythin’. And trust na one except those whose hearts ye know well.”

“I didn’t expect any visitors,” Mitchell stammered, his discomfiture still obvious.

“If yer na busy, then ye should use this time for self-betterment and education. It would na hurt ye to read a book man!”

“I do not own a book.”

“Och, we will have to change that!”

“I thought all of you would be coming in later today for the ball.”

“Well, I came ahead of time. The good news is that since I was here early, I prevented a robbery of Henderson & Co. The bad news is that ye have three bodies to take care of.”

“You killed three men?” Mitchell asked, his eyes widening. “Not again!”

Bear sighed heavily, remembering what the deputy referred to. Shortly after their arrival in Boonesborough, he and Sam had to deal with a bunch of unruly murdering buffalo hunters. The battle cost his family, and the buffalo hunters, dearly.

“Aye, again.” He filled Mitchell in on the details of the shooting and suggested that he go search the bodies for identification and then go find the undertaker, and have the man bring his wagon to haul away the bodies. Bear promised to meet the deputy at the store in a few minutes. “I’ll go see if I can find Lucky McGintey. Maybe he’ll know who those three scoundrels are.”

“That’s a good idea. Lucky knows everybody in the state I think.”

“Any idea where I might find him?”

“This time of day he’s usually back from hunting and relaxing at the Bear Trap Tavern.”

After using William’s wash basin to clean up a bit, Bear stepped out into the bright sunshine, made his way through the fort’s gates, and then headed for the tavern. He wished he were going there to get an ale, not to find Lucky. He could use a pint and maybe a wee drop of whiskey too. Maybe he’d have time before the ball for a nip or two to ease the tension he felt in his shoulders. It was never easy to kill men, even those who asked for death.