“We were married by Father Antonio at the Mission yesterday.”
“Howdy, Mrs. O’Connor.” Alfie belatedly gathered her wits.
“Mrs. Montague, I’m afraid you gave me a shock.” The woman’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. Alfie instinctively knew she wasn’t impressed with Toby’s choice of a wife.” Who did the old biddy think she was anyway?
“Where’s your luggage, Mr Montague?”
Toby grinned. “We haven’t got any. We travelled light.”
Mrs. O’Connor pursed her lips. “Well, come along.”
She held the lamp high as they followed her up the stairs to a first floor room, which she opened with a flourish and stepped back. “I’ll have hot water sent up.”
“Thank you,” Alfie said, while Toby stared at the room with a slightly petulant droop to his lips.
“Will you need supper?”
“No thanks, we just need a nice comfortable bed.” Alfie smiled at the woman who didn’t reciprocate.
“I’ll have the water sent up.” She minced off.
“I don’t think she likes your choice in a wife. Would his parents feel like this also? Probably. Things weren’t looking good.
“I don’t give a damn what she thinks.”
“You stay here often?” Jealousy curdled her stomach. How many other woman had he brought here?
“I don’t stay here very often.”
“Mrs. O’Connor seems to know you well.”
“She does. Her sister is our housekeeper and she’s been out to the ranch a few times. I nearly always eat here when I’m in town as Mrs. O’Connor is the best cook for miles around. I swear.” He prowled the room.
“Bakerville is a small town. It wouldn’t exist except it’s close to the Chisholm Trail and lots of cowboys come here to let off steam after a long drive. There’s a saloon, the livery and a few other businesses. Oh, we do have a Marshall.” He laughed. “Wouldn’t have him except Pa pays most of his wages.”
So, that was the way of it, Alfie thought, the Montagues owned the town. Toby didn’t say that but she got the drift, the Marshall would deal with small problems, and anything major the Texas Rangers in Austin could handle.
Maybe Pa hadn’t been exaggerating, but a son shouldn’t be blamed for the sins of his father. When she got the chance she would call in on Jeb and Uncle John in Austin. They could then assure Alex everything was fine. Hopefully, Pa wouldn’t take his anger out on Alex. He was always so unpredictable, and acted real loco at times.
A knock at the door interrupted them. “Come in,” Toby said.
A youth entered carrying a bucket of hot water. “Thank you,” Alfie said.
“Pleasure Ma’am, there’s cold water in the jug on the dresser.” With a nod to Toby he left the room.
“You flirted with him,” Toby sulkily accused.
“I did not, he’s only about fourteen. There’s only one man I love.” She came up to him and locked her arms around his waist. “My new husband.”
“Sorry, I’m possessive and jealous.”
“I am too, that’s why I wanted to know about this room. I….I thought you might have brought women up here.”
“I never did, I swear. Let’s have a wash and go to bed. I want you so bad it’s killing me.”
They took turns to have a quick wash. “You can have a bath at the ranch.”
“I’d like that.”
Alfie had no nightgown, so she went to bed naked as did Toby. Doing something so wanton added to the excitement of making love to her husband in a nice soft bed.
****
Next morning, hand in hand they strolled down to breakfast in Mrs. O’Connor’s private parlor. Nothing but the best for a Montague apparently. Their table was next to the open window, and a gentle breeze blew in on them.
Alfie was starving and ordered bacon, eggs and potato mash as did Toby. They also shared a stack of pancakes with their coffee.
Sipping a second cup of coffee, Alfie happened to glance up. A haughty woman dressed in a mauve satin gown with deeper mauve cuffs and collars, swept into the room.
“Tobias”
The one word had Toby leaping to his feet. “Ma! What are you doing here?”
Alfie was about to meet the in-laws and she feared it wasn’t going to be pleasant. A tall, slightly overweight man strode through the doorway seconds later.
Mrs. Montague eyed Alfie with disdain. “Who is ….this.” She waved her arms around, momentarily lost for words. “White trash.”
“Ma, this is Alfreda. My wife.”
“Wife!” she shrieked, frantically fanning herself with a lace handkerchief. “I thought the O’Connor boy was joking when he rode out to the ranch and informed us you were married.”
“Now, son, this has gone far enough.” Mr. Montague tugged at his moustache. “Send this bed faggot of yours on her way before I get the Marshall to run her out of town.”
“She’s my wife,” Toby shouted.
“Get an annulment,” his father growled.
Alfie was so shocked and sickened by the Montague’s vicious attack, she feared she might vomit up her breakfast. Mrs. Montague was marching up and down, waving her arms like a demented witch.
“No annulment.” Toby glared at his parents. “Our marriage has been consummated. If you can’t welcome my wife into the family I’ll….”
“Welcome the likes of her?”
“Mrs. Montague, I love your son.”
“You’re only after his money.”
“I would have married Toby even if he was poor.”
“I will not tolerate this white trash trying to get her hands on our money. Do something, Joseph.”
“What in tarnation do you expect me to do, woman?”
“Go to the law. Get the Marshall to run her out of town.”
“You aren’t listening to me,” Toby interjected. “I love….”
Three shots rang out in quick succession, interrupting his flow of words. Shock registered on his face, then he grabbed his throat and dropped to the floor. There was a gurgling noise and blood spurted everywhere.
Alfie leapt to his side, grabbing a tablecloth as she did so. Crockery and food were sent flying. She knelt beside Toby and jammed the rolled up tablecloth against his neck.
“Get the doc,” Joseph roared.
“This is your fault, you harlot,” Mrs. Montague screamed and ranted.
“Out of the way, gal.” Joseph pushed her aside and Alfie picked up Toby’s cold hand and held it against her breast.
“Please Toby, don’t die.”
“He’s gone,” Joseph said in a low guttural voice. “My son is dead.”
“No! No! He can’t be.” Alfie threw herself across his body, desperate for the warmth of her body to transfer to him and bring him back to life.
A short, wiry man rushed in.
“Marshall, she killed my son,” Mrs. Montague shrieked.
The shots came through the window,” Joseph said. “Three in all.”
The Marshall glanced at Toby’s prostrate figure and lifted Alfie away. “Nothing you can do for him now, gal.”
Mrs. Montague collapsed on to the floor and Mrs. O’Connor dashed over with the smelling salts. Joseph climbed to his feet and the Marshall put an arm around his shoulder, while Alfie stood – alone and bereft. Toby was dead. She was a widow after two days of marriage. She scrubbed the tears away from her cheeks.
“I want the sonofabitch who let off those shots caught and hanged,” Joseph snarled.
“We’ll get him,” the Marshal said.
“What about her?” Mrs. O’Connor asked.
“Go to your room, gal,” the Marshall ordered. “I’ll talk to you after I’ve finished down here.”
Alfie stumbled away, her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. Shaking and crying she made it to the bedroom they had shared, then paced the floor. Finally she stopped. What was happening downstairs? She was Toby’s widow and should be down there. Her legs trembled and she felt ice cold.
Not knowing what else to do she climbed into bed and covered herself with a quilt. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping this would block out the horror.
Time passed. She didn’t really care how long. I have to go down and see what’s happening or I’ll go stark raving mad. She climbed off the bed and glanced into the street. There was not one person in sight, although a couple of horses were hitched outside the saloon.
Chapter Five
She had plaited her hair before breakfast, but not pinned it up and she didn’t have the energy to do it now. Alfie inched the door open and stared out. No one was around. She crept down the stairs.
On hearing Mrs. Montague’s strident tones she stopped outside the parlor. “I want the Marshall to run that creature out of town.”
“Shut your Goddamm mouth, woman. They’ve been married for two days. Knowing Toby as I do, he would have mounted her more than once.”
Alfie clamped a hand over her mouth so a shocked gasp would not escape. The man was a crude oaf.
“I don’t care, Toby would have married Governor Mulkearn’s daughter if that harlot hadn’t sunk her claws into him. You know what this means, Joseph, both our boys are dead. We have no heirs.”
“What if she’s with child?” Joseph’s cold voice had a menacing ring to it. “We could take the babe after she’s birthed it.”
“How much would we have to pay her to get it?”
“Nothing,” he said. “We’ll kill her.”
“What do we do with her until we find out whether she is with child or not?”
“We keep her hidden.”
“If she isn’t with child, what then?”
“We’ll kill her. We can’t run the risk of her telling anyone that we kept her prisoner. Besides, she might play the destitute, grieving widow bit to the authorities, and try to claim some of the ranch.”
Alfie shoved her fist into her mouth to stifle her moans of anguish. If she didn’t get out of Bakerville, she was a dead woman.
“I’ll get a couple of the men to get her out of here, and take her to the old O’Connor place,” Joseph said. “Then we wait.”
She must have made a noise. Suddenly the parlor door was flung open with such force it sent her crashing against the wall and Alfie banged her head. Even though stars flashed before her eyes, she turned to flee.
Joseph grabbed her plait and dragged her back.
“Let go of me,” she screamed.
“Shut up.” He clamped his hand across her mouth as she struggled even harder. Kicking and squirming did her no good. He was as strong as an ox and easily dragged her up the stairs.
He wrenched open the bedroom door and shoved her inside, then he grabbed her plait and forced her over to the bed. She fought him with all her strength to no avail.
“Mrs. O’Connor rushed in holding a piece of rope. “I don’t like this,” she said handing it over to Toby’s father.
“Too bad. Do as I say or I’ll get the Marshal to close this place down and your sister’s employment will be terminated.”
Even in her own distress Alfie watched the woman’s face turn ghostly white as Joseph wrapped the rope around Alfie’s hands, pushed them over her head and fastened them to the bed head.
He stomped off with a trembling Mrs. O’Connor following in his wake.
This was a nightmare. It had to be. Things like this didn’t happen to ordinary folk like her. As she jerked and pulled at the ropes her wrists burned with the friction to such an extent, there was no mistake. This was real.
If she could somehow escape she might be able to get to Austin and seek help from Uncle John and Jeb. No, she couldn’t, in case Joseph somehow found out they were related. Their business would be ruined. A rich, powerful man like him could even pay to have them killed with no questions asked.
You’re on your own, Alfie. You have to get away from here and never come back.
Once it became obvious she wasn’t with child, they might leave her alone, but until then she was in dire peril.
A scruffy young cowboy entered the room and leered at her. An older cowboy who was a step or two behind him said. “You keep your britches on. Touch that gal and the boss will have you castrated. If it turns out she ain’t having Toby’s brat, then we can do what we like to her before she dies.”
Alfie’s blood ran cold. She had no doubt they were intending to follow their boss’ orders. Escape, somehow she had to do it.
“How long do we have to stay here?” whined the young cowboy.
“Till it’s dark, then we get her out of town and take her to the old O’Connor place and wait for further instructions.”
“Have they moved the body yet, Dick?” asked the young one.
“I reckon they’re getting ready to. They have to give the undertaker time to do whatever he does, then the burying will be after lunch,” Dick said.
“That’s quick.”
Dick shrugged. “The boss wants to get back to the ranch. Anyway, the quicker they do the burying the better.”
Alfie inwardly shuddered. She had never met so many cold blooded people. The young man was the weaker link she decided, wondering how to exploit it.
Time passed, she didn’t know how much and was beyond caring. She was doomed. Even if she could somehow get herself untied, she couldn’t get past two armed cowboys.
“Dick,” Joseph roared. “I need you down here, pronto.”
“What now?” Dick growled as he stomped off.
He returned within a couple of minutes. “Ya watch that gal, the boss needs me to help the undertaker. I’ll be back in about an hour.” The door closed behind him with a loud click.
“Ya be a fine looking gal.”
“What’s your name, cowboy?”
“Macy.”
“Well, Macy, you’re a fine looking man, I’m Alfreda.” If she had any feminine wiles, now would be the time to use them.
“These ropes are too tight, couldn’t you loosen them a little?”
He stared at her, hopefully he wasn’t too bright and would fall for the ploy. Dick certainly wouldn’t have. She ran her tongue slowly across her lower lip. “We could have some fun.”
“How much fun?” Lust burned in his eyes.
“Depends on how loose the rope is.”
“I ain’t allowed to touch you, Dick said….”
“Dick isn’t here, and a lady such as myself does have needs.” She gave a soft, suggestive laugh. The words slipping out of her mouth sickened her, but she was fighting for her life now.
“If anyone finds out.” He moved closer to the bed.
“How would they find out unless you tell them? Ladies like me never kiss and tell.”
“I….I’d want more than kisses.”
“Of course you do, and so do I – much more.” She arched her back as much as she could. “I got an itch, cowboy.” She squirmed a little, even though every movement made the rope scrape against her skin. “And I’m a thinking a handsome young man such as you can ease it.”
His hand shot out at grabbed her breast.
“Naughty, naughty. Don’t you want to see me naked? I sure do want to see how well hung you are. I’m thinking I’ve got myself a real stallion here.”
He let go of her breast and started working on the ropes, his fingers fumbling, such was his haste. Once she was free, he dived on top of her.
“Come on, cowboy. If you take off your clothes so will I. A gal has to see what a man’s got to offer first.”
He rolled away and got up from the bed.
“Your shirt first, I want to see that manly chest of yours, then your britches.” She gave what she hoped was a seductive laugh.
He almost ripped his shirt off, while she sat up slowly and undid her coat buttons and pushed it open so she could get to her shirt. Undoing three buttons, she pushed the shirt down over one shoulder to expose the top of her breast.
Once he had shrugged out of his shirt she got up from the bed and stepped closer to him. “I do love a man with a ha
iry chest.” She ran the tip of one finger across his nipple. She could now smell his sweating anticipation and nearly gagged with revulsion.
“Need a hand with those britches, cowboy?”
“Yeah, I sure do.”
She placed a hand on each of his hips and with all her strength kneed him in the groin. He gave a shocked grunt and doubled over. She grabbed the lamp off the dresser and slammed it against his head, causing him to crash to the floor.
Leaping toward the window she pushed it open and looked out. It led to a sideway. A couple of bushes growing up close to the wall afforded little cover, but it was better than none. Even though Macy was unconscious, she tied the gag around his mouth and rolled him under the bed.
Sweat poured from her body, her breath came out in labored pants as she climbed on to the window ledge and danged for a moment. If she didn’t land properly, her leg could be broken or worse. Using her feet she pushed out from the wall, sending up a desperate prayer as she let go of the window ledge. The bush broke her fall, although every bone in her body was jarred. She lay on the ground for a minute or two, trying to catch her breath.
What to do now? Steal a horse? And be hanged as a horse thief. If she could make it to the livery stable without being seen, she could take the horse Toby had bought her. Poor Toby, tears burned at the back of her eyes, yet she couldn’t allow them to fall. Plenty of time to lament the tragedy of a young husband being gunned down once she got away from here.
If Joseph Montague ever found out who shot Toby, he was a dead man. Also, if he caught up with her, she was a dead woman. Fear shivered along her spine.
Alfie forced herself to nonchalantly walk down the street. No-one except the man at the livery who had been half asleep, and those at the hotel had seen her. Well, the Marshall had. She passed by the saloon, which was unusually silent. Had the townsfolk locked themselves indoors in case something might happen to them? It seemed likely.
She stepped through a space between the bank and the barber’s shop. It was only wide enough for a single horseman to pass by.
A snowy haired boy sat outside the livery, chewing on a blade of dry grass.
“Howdy,” Alfie greeted him. “I left my horse here last night. I rode in with Toby Montague. It’s the bay gelding. We paid in advance last night.”
Alfie Page 3