Liberty Belle (15 page)

She pushed on him, struggled from his arms, and scooted to his left and grasped her ankle. “Sorry. How clumsy of me.”

He fought to draw in the air that had been knocked out of him. After a few minutes, his breath returned enough for him to speak. “You make a habit of falling off boardwalks?”

She blushed.

Flora and Mark knelt beside her, concern on their faces.

Even in the fading light, Libby’s beauty struck him. She held him captive every bit as much as when he had first caught her in Crimson. Her touch still warmed him. Never had he felt like this with any woman.

She looked at him, worry shadowing her face. “Are you hurt?”

He wanted to tell her how she beguiled him with her looks and southern speech. But he couldn’t.

“Nope. Just resting.” He gave a half-hearted grin, rose to his feet, and held a hand out to her. “Think you can stand?”

She reached for him and he pulled her up.

Grimacing, she kept the weight off her sore foot. “I’m afraid I’ll not be able to walk very far. Do you think you can find a coach or even a horse?”

Wade clasped Mark’s shoulder and frowned when he felt the boy shivering. “The clerk at the hotel said there wouldn’t be any. Best we can do is walk away from this part of town.”

Flora picked up Libby’s bag and her own. “No use standing here and getting colder.” She held her head high and trudged forward.

“I’ll help, Miss Libby.” Mark took her hand and put it on his shoulder. “Lean on me.”

Libby smiled through a grimace. “I’ll be fine. Let’s just walk slow.” She hobbled a few steps.

Wade’s heart melted.
Why did she have to be so stubborn?
He stopped Mark. “Whoa, partner. Why don’t you let me help her?” Seeing the disappointment on the kid’s face, Wade pulled the saddlebags from his shoulder and along with his jacket placed them on the boy. “You keep a look out for a wagon or spare horse.”

“Okay, partner.” Mark patted the leather pouches and grinned.

Libby limped a few more steps.

Wade grieved at her pain and put a hand to her elbow. “Would you allow me to carry you?”

She turned, her cheeks reddening. “I, uh, I couldn’t. It’s not proper—”

He shook his head and scooped her into his arms before she could say anything more.

She stiffened, raised a fist, and then relaxed. “Just a few blocks. I really don’t want to be any trouble.”

You have no idea.

Wade led his little group along the street, cringing at the sordid comments from the drunken horde.
What were you thinking, Libby? This is no place for southern ladies accustomed to a life of charm.

Her heart drummed against his chest, sending his pulse into a race. A breeze swept a strand of her hair into his face. The sweet aroma had him dizzy. The warm touch of her arm and her soft breath against his neck left him in over his head. He’d fallen for her and never wanted to let her go. His soul wrestled with the circumstances. He had nothing to offer. No reason to hope she’d consider a life with him.

Sneering laughter erupted from the large saloon across the street. “Hey, you can give us one of them females.”

His muscles tensed. Trouble was about to begin, and he couldn’t reach his gun. He walked a few more steps, but a drunken snort behind set off all the alarms he’d learned as sheriff. Reluctantly, he set Libby down. “Flora, come and help Libby.”

He placed a palm on Mark’s head, stopping the boy. “Walk in front of me, right by Libby, okay, partner?”

The boy nodded.

“Oh dear.” Flora dropped her satchel and opened her reticule.

Wade’s fingers rested on his gun. The meager light of the lamps hanging by the saloons gave little help to see approaching danger.

Fortunately, most of the men appeared too drunk to walk a straight line much less offer him a challenge.

Libby turned to say something, but he hushed her.

He needed to be able to hear footsteps, the click of a gun, trouble. The chilled air clung to him. He could only imagine how cold the others must be.

The end of the block neared but so did the streetlights.  They’d be an easy target in the dark with the muted glow of lanterns hanging by the rows of tents.

Libby limped alongside Flora.

“We’re almost out of the saloon district. Keep watch for those tents. There might be one for rent.” Wade wanted to give the women a reason to hope.

His shoulders bowed under the weight of failure. How could he protect them? Find a place? He almost laughed when he caught himself wondering if Mark was praying. Almost.

###

Leaning on Flora, Libby limped a few steps. What she wouldn’t give for a warm wrap and a soft bed. Her bid for independence wasn’t going at all as she had planned. Her heart sank. What plan?
Leave her controlling mother and go west
had sounded so easy and exciting.

Even worse, she had to admit her mother was right. Libby had acted impulsively and now she was reaping the consequences. And not only her, but she’d put Flora at risk, too.

“Oh, Providence, don’t you think?” Flora whispered.

Providence? She’d believed that when she’d started her journey. Now?

Flora adjusted her satchel. “Wade came along just at the right time to help us. Sent by the good Lord. Of that I am certain.”

Wade.
She had to admit from the very first, he’d lit sparks in her heart. And then to run into him again on the stage? His strong footstep behind them gave her a sense of protection. The man had surely taken on the responsibility to see to their safety. Yet she wanted more than protection from him, but he only seemed to think of her as his duty.

A barking dog ran into the street. Someone in a nearby tent cursed the animal to be quiet. Such a rough land and town. Libby wanted to cry but exhaustion dried her tears. Was there no one with a kind heart?

The clip-clop of hoofbeats sounded behind them. She held her breath. Perhaps a driver to take them to Auraria?

“Miss Libby, Miss Flora.”

Libby stopped and turned.

Wade drew his gun.

She put a hand on his arm. “No. I think it’s Harley Mason.”

A wagon rolled beside them. The gambler stopped the horses and tipped his hat. “I had time to check out my new saloon and found it to be nicer than I’d thought. I was hoping to find you. I heard the hotels, boardinghouses, and even tents are all taken. You’ll find no rooms in Denver or Auraria.”

Libby closed her eyes. Right now, another night sleeping in the stagecoach sounded like luxury. She shrugged and looked to Flora. “What will we do?”

Harley stepped from the wagon. “I’ve come to offer you a room, at least for the night.”

Libby squared her shoulders. “I think a saloon is hardly the place—”

Wade stepped in front of her. “Where she goes, I go. Is there a room for me and the boy?”

Holding up his hands, Harley nodded. “I wouldn’t think of separating
family
.” The gambler looked over Wade’s shoulder at her. “Just the room. No obligations. Won’t even charge you.”

A brisk wind settled her decision. “Just for the night. If this room comes with a key.”

Harley laughed. “Your room has a lock, and only you will have the key. I promise.”

“Oh my. I have to admit I can’t go any farther.” Flora dropped her satchel as if to add emphasis to her vote. “And little Mark is done in.”

Libby turned to Wade. “Do you think it safe?”

He stared at her and shrugged. “It’s likely safer than anything else we’ll get tonight.”

She silently prayed, asking for their protection and forgiveness for staying in a house of ill repute. “All right, Mr. Mason. We accept your offer … and thank you.”

With a nod, Harley held out his hand to help her into the wagon.

She accepted. Then wondered if the devil could appear as providence as well.

Chapter 16

Wade glared at the gambler. Good thing darkness hid his scowl. Much as he loathed Harley and all he represented, the women and boy needed a warm place to stay the night. He helped Flora into the wagon and then boosted Mark beside her.

He turned and saw Harley seat Libby in the front. Fists balled, Wade held his temper. The man would bear watching. Wade didn’t believe the gambler came just to be hospitable.

After climbing onto the back of the wagon, Wade let his muscles relax but hated that he had to let the gambler rescue Libby. The familiar lingering sense of failure pounced on him. He’d let his family down, and now couldn’t take care of Libby, Flora, or the boy. Tomorrow, he’d find a job. Earn enough to provide them rent for a decent boardinghouse.

“Oh, I have never felt so relieved. Mr. Mason must be somewhat of a good man. He really hasn’t done anything to untoward all these days on the coach. But—” Flora placed a hand on Wade’s arm. “—You will keep an eye on us, won’t you?”

Wade retreated from his thoughts and turned to see lines of worry plowed over her forehead.

“I’ll keep watch over you and Libby. After all, I am her
brother
.” He winked.

“Oh dear, me. I am sorry to force you into a lie. I just didn’t see any other man that looked respectable. The moment I saw you, I knew you were the one. A Christian man. I could tell right off.” The small woman pushed her glasses higher on her nose and gave him a pleading smile.

A Christian man? He hadn’t been living like one. The revenge in his heart replaced any goodness he’d had in the past. Although the cause for the hate was gone, Taylor’s deeds had killed more than Wade’s family. They’d destroyed his honor.

Flora stared at him, apparently waiting for an answer.

He nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on that gambler. I’m thankful for the room tonight, but I don’t trust his intentions.”

She smiled and hugged her reticule to her chest.

Flora was an odd woman, but there was a simple strength and goodness in her. Wade hoped she’d find her new life in the West to her liking. Although if it were up to him, he’d put them both on the next stage going east.

He looked behind him. Mark slept huddled in Wade’s jacket. The boy could sleep anywhere. More than likely the result of a clear conscience. Wade grimaced. How long had his been stained with guilt and hate?

“I’ll have you all warm and in my establishment in a matter of minutes. Hang on.” Harley flicked the reins, and the wagon jerked.

Wade gripped the edge and put a hand out to keep Flora from falling.

She hung onto to his arm. “Oh dear. You’d think I would be used to this after all those days on the stage.”

Grinning, he patted her arm. Then he turned to so she wouldn’t see his grin fade. How could he promise to watch them? He needed to find work. Who would protect them when he was away? That knot in the pit of his stomach tightened. What had he gotten himself into? What had he gotten the ladies into?

###

Libby still shuddered from Harley’s touch. She remembered his threatening words on the stage and scooted to the farthest side of the seat away from him. For added protection, she placed her bag between them.

Trembling, she hugged her arms to her chest. The gambler glanced at her but kept quiet. For that, she was thankful. The cold air bit too deep to let him draw her into an argument that might lose her a warm place to sleep tonight, even if it was in a saloon.

Harley turned the wagon down a side street. “I won this saloon from a man wanting to go back east. Said he’d had enough of the West.”

His smooth voice and matter-of-fact tone irritated Libby. She’d allow him to help her this night, but first thing tomorrow morning, she’d telegraph her family. They would send her money and arrange for her extra clothes to be shipped. She hoped so anyway.

Harley slapped the reins. “The saloon is named The Yellow Slipper. She’s two stories, solid, and a money maker. My good fortune and the other fellow’s bad luck.”

Yellow?
The color followed her like an unwanted dog. She glanced at Harley. “I am glad for you and thankful for your kindness to come and get us.”

He snorted. “Little lady, there’s not a thing I do that doesn’t have an angle. I figure even if you stay for only a night, patrons will talk and bring more business. Your brother might even come in handy. He looks like he can handle a gun. Might have a job for him.”

Not a thing he does do without an angle
. Like that surprised her. Anger warmed her as she tried to think of a proper retort. The wagon lurched throwing her against him.

Harley put his arm around her to steady her.

She wriggled from his grasp and gripped the edge of the seat. “You do not own me, Mr. Mason. You would be wise to remember that.”

“I bet those green eyes of yours are flashing. Don’t you worry. I never take what I don’t own. Just doing you and your friends a kindness. Why, even gamblers can have a speck of goodness in their hearts.” He laughed. A spiteful chuckle only those with the upper hand can give out.

“And a speck would be about all the goodness you have. If you don’t mind, I prefer to continue on in silence.” She turned away from him and watched the crowd of men milling from one saloon to another.

Some of the buildings were of wood or brick, and others mere tents. All of them were filled with rowdy men reeling from the effects of the drink.

“Whoa.” Harley pulled on the reins.

The wagon slowed and stopped in front of a large building. The double doors were wide open and Libby could see men standing at a bar. The sound of a tinny piano drifted into the night. Although the tune attempted gaiety, it was as hollow as the promise of happiness held in a bottle of spirits. The false joy heightened her loneliness.

“Don’t worry. There are stairs on the outside to the room I have set aside for you and your aunt. Your brother and his son can stay in the room next to yours.” Harley set the brake and stepped down.

Reflecting on his kindness softened Libby’s thoughts of the man. At least she wouldn’t have to walk through the saloon and endure the leering stares of drunken fools. Too quickly, Harley appeared at her side to help her down.