by Cahill, Cat
WILD FOREVER
The Gilbert Girls, Book Three
by Cat Cahill
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author at:
http://www.catcahill.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 Cat Cahill
Cover design by EDH Professionals
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1075172564
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Epilogue
Books in The Gilbert Girls series
About the Author, Cat Cahill
Chapter One
Cañon City, Colorado Territory–1875
In less than ten seconds, Sheriff Ben Young went from seeing his breath outside Murray’s saloon to sweating inside the place. Peeling off his long coat, he scanned the large, busy room. It seemed as if most of Cañon City’s male population had shoved itself inside the doors of the establishment. His gaze landed on a scrawny young man perched on a barstool.
“I didn’t think you were coming,” the younger man said when Ben sat next to him. His knee bounced up and down as he spoke.
“My work isn’t generally set by hours,” Ben said. That was the first thing he’d learned upon being elected to the position of Fremont County sheriff. No one much cared if he was sleeping or having dinner when they decided to cause trouble.
The man finished his drink but said nothing else.
“You said you had news of my sister?” Ben tried to keep the impatience from his voice.
“I owe the barkeep for my evening.” The man signaled for another drink.
Ben frowned. It took everything he had not to grab this kid by the collar and demand he bring Ben to his sister right this second. Instead, he reached into his pocket, extracted some coins, and laid them on the bar. The barkeep swept up the money and poured a drink for each of them. The younger man downed another glass while Ben ignored his.
“You’d best spill what you know. Now.” The words ground through his teeth.
“All right. Here’s all I know. It’s Royal Hagan and his gang. And they probably took her up somewhere in the Sangres.” The man looked longingly at his empty glass.
Ben slapped another coin down for the man. It was the least he could do, considering he had no information at all before talking to this kid. “How do you know?”
The man eyed the star on Ben’s chest. “Used to ride with them. Ran into one of them fellows last week outside of town, and he might’ve mentioned their plans. It was some time back. When I rode with them, I mean.”
Ben stood and clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder, which made him jump. “Thanks.” He smiled, despite the grim circumstances of his life at the moment, and pulled his coat back on.
Outside, the chill was like a slap in the face, but the new information warmed Ben from the inside. He surveyed the street—mostly empty this time of night—before pulling the battered piece of paper from his pocket. Under the light from the saloon’s large front window, he read the words again.
To Sheriff Young,
Miss Young is safe for now. You want it to remain that way, drop $2000 by November 30th.
Two thousand dollars. It was more than Ben made in a year, even if he supplemented his income with serving court papers and collecting bounties. But the number made sense now.
Two thousand dollars was what the Hagan gang lost when Ben had foiled that train robbery last month. They’d run off so fast, they left everything they’d stolen behind. And now it looked as if they were determined to get it back.
Using his sister.
Ben crumpled the note and shoved it into his pocket. Adelaide was nine years his junior, and more willful than any girl should be. As even and steady as Ben was, Adelaide was everything opposite. His only consolation was that she was most likely giving those outlaws an earful and making them regret they’d ever taken her.
Safe for now. The words ricocheted in Ben’s head as he walked the short distance to his office. Royal Hagan had better hope his idea of safe was the same as Ben’s. If any of those men laid a hand on his sister, the only promise Ben could keep was that he’d bring them to justice the old-fashioned way.
A lone lamp burned in the front office when Ben arrived. Fremont County provided him with a small room in Cañon City for conducting business, a jail with a handful of cells attached to the rear, and living quarters upstairs. James Wright and Harry Caldwell, his two regular deputies, sat at the desk, playing cards. Both looked up when he entered.
“Find out anything?” James asked as he gathered the cards to shuffle.
“It’s Hagan. The kid I talked to thinks they’ve got her up in the mountains.” Ben shuffled his coat off yet again. The fire burning in the stove warmed his numb fingers.
“The Sangres?” Harry asked, smoothing his mustache with his finger. It did little good; it only served to make him look slightly less scruffy. When Ben nodded, he added, “Fine time of year to be up there.”
Ben stared into the fire. He wasn’t going to wait around to see if he could somehow dredge up two thousand dollars. “I’m going to look for her.”
“It’s likely snowed in up there, Boss,” Harry said.
“If it was your sister, would you leave her alone with those outlaws?” Ben asked sharply.
Harry shook his head. “I’ll go with you. See who I can gather up from town. We’ll get a group and go in there together.”
Ben’s heart lifted. Harry was a good friend—maybe better than Ben deserved at times. “Will you hold down business here?” he asked James.
“Consider it done,” James replied. “Been quiet around here lately anyhow.”
The old adage about quiet before the storm flitted through Ben’s head, but he didn’t speak it aloud. “Good. We’ll leave tomorrow.”
That would give him at least one night to come up with a plan instead of wandering aimlessly through the mou
ntains. They could start in Crest Stone. Perhaps someone at the hotel there had news of Hagan’s gang.
No matter what it took, Ben would find his sister.
Chapter Two
Crest Stone, Colorado Territory
“This is the most lovely thing I’ve ever seen!” Penny clutched the hat Caroline had given her to her chest and fairly danced around the lobby of the Crest Stone Hotel, dodging an elderly couple who were making their way from the front desk to the door.
“I thought you deserved something beautiful to celebrate the occasion of turning nineteen,” her friend Caroline said.
Penny held the darling thing out in front of her. According to Caroline, it was the height of fashion in Boston. Penny had no idea if that was true, but she knew she’d never owned anything quite so delicate. White lace swooped over the front and back of the emerald green felt. Three feathers peeked out the top of the hat. It would certainly dress up her usual simple clothing.
“Thank you.” Penny swept Caroline into a hug. “I’ve never received anything like it.”
Caroline placed a hand on each of Penny’s arms and smiled at her. “It will bring out the green in your eyes. Promise me you’ll wear it.”
“You don’t have to ask me again. I’ll wear it to services on Sunday.”
Caroline pulled her coat on. “I must return to the store. Thomas needs help unpacking the newest shipment of goods.”
“How is Mr. Drexel? Still as handsome as last week?” Penny grinned. She’d been skeptical of Mr. Drexel when Caroline first met him, but he’d proven himself a good man who truly loved Penny’s friend.
“Oh, hush.” Caroline turned red, and Penny laughed.
“You should get back to him. I’ll see you soon.” Penny hugged her friend again.
Penny turned the gorgeous piece of millinery over in her hands and wondered how she’d ever keep it looking as nice as it did now. Gentleness was not exactly her finest suit. In fact, both of her work dresses and half her aprons had small tears that she’d clumsily sewn up. No matter how hard her mother had tried, Penny had simply never been good at exercising caution with her clothing. Or her hair or her words, for that matter. The lack of restraint was the reason she’d come to Crest Stone and taken work in the Gilbert hotel restaurant, far from her home in North Carolina.
Penny placed the new hat into its box, walked sedately up the hotel stairs, and rounded the corner of the hallway that led to the ladies’ dormitory. The hotel’s common areas weren’t crowded yet. It would be a different story once the noon train arrived. Reassured no one was in sight, she broke into an unladylike run. It was nearly 11:30, and she was due to report for her lunch shift in the dining room. She placed the gift in her room, grabbed the small gray hat that matched her Gilbert Company work dress, and moved as quickly as she could back downstairs.
“Where have you been?” Millie asked as Penny slid through the doors and took her place at the end of the line of gray-and-white-clad waitresses. Mrs. Ruby, the older woman who oversaw the Gilbert Girls, as the waitresses were known, stood in front of them with Sarah, the new head waitress since Caroline had given up the role to be married. Mrs. Ruby stepped forward to give her pre-shift update.
“Caroline came by and brought me a birthday gift,” Penny whispered.
Millie raised her eyebrows, clearly curious about the gift as Dora, her roommate, peered around her.
Penny had no time to explain, however, as Mrs. Ruby began speaking.
“The train from Cañon City is running on schedule. I’ll be quick so that you have time to ready your stations. I’ve received word that the county sheriff and a number of men in his employ will be lodging here at the hotel for an unknown length of time. They’ll be taking meals here on occasion. If they’re seated at one of your tables, treat them as you would any other customer, but be respectful of their work and give them privacy if it appears they require it.” After a few more words of encouragement and praise for a handful of girls who had somehow served and cleared all their tables in twenty minutes—a feat Penny was certain she’d never achieve—Mrs. Ruby dismissed them.
“What do you suppose the sheriff will be doing here?” Penny asked Dora and Millie as they made their way to their stations in the rear of the dining room. She’d met the man once before, when Mr. Drexel had been arrested and jailed last month. Penny and the others had orchestrated an intricate plan to prove his innocence. She hadn’t spoken much to the sheriff, but she would’ve had to be blind not to notice his good looks. She remembered a tall man, with hair the color of warm chocolate and a smile that both set her at ease and flustered her all at once.
“He must be looking for someone,” Dora said in her quiet voice.
“I think it’s exciting,” Millie added as she refolded a napkin.
“I wonder if he’s married,” Penny mused.
“Penelope May!” Millie swatted her with the napkin and laughed. “You have no shame.”
Penny laughed too, although the words—meant in jest—burned at her. That was what people had said about her right before she left home. They were wrong. She had plenty of shame. The problem was that she had no ability to control what came out of her mouth or how she reacted at times. As Millie and Dora left to ensure the water pitchers were full, Penny sighed and leaned against the wall next to her station. Would she ever learn to be the lady her mother had wanted her to be?
No, that was no way to think. She’d come so far since escaping the damage she’d done in North Carolina. She was a new woman here in Colorado. After all, she’d managed to keep this position, headstrong as she still was at times. She had the ability to support herself, even if her demeanor put off any man worth marrying.
As the dining room doors opened and train passengers flooded in, Penny gripped her full water pitcher and smiled like the lady she hoped she was.
Chapter Three
It was nearing dusk, and still Ben and his men hadn’t seen a soul. He was beginning to think this tip he’d received from one of the railroad men was stale. Supposedly, the man had seen one of Royal Hagan’s gang in the mountains behind the hotel. It made sense, keeping reasonably close to a ready source of food and water, and so it was worth a look.
But they’d been combing the area since early this morning, and they hadn’t seen a soul. Ben leaned against a tree and removed a last bit of bread from his pocket. He figured they’d wait until closer to midnight, and then call it a day. It was cold, but he was thankful the little snow that had fallen this low in the mountains had already melted. As he chewed, his mind wandered back to Adelaide. Her quick smile, her ability to talk to anyone, her friendly disposition. Not for the first time, he prayed she was unhurt. And that only made him imagine all the ways she could be hurt, which in turn caused him to start walking again.
He moved silently across the sandy dirt and fallen pine needles, peering into the dusky shadows between the trees. Leaves crunched.
Ben froze and glanced down. There were no dead leaves under his feet. And Harry and the others were far enough away, it shouldn’t be them. Silently, he drew his gun.
And waited.
A figure, obscured in the fading light, emerged from the shadows. Ben squinted, but it did no good.
“You there!” he shouted. “Stop and raise your hands!”
The figure paused. Then it broke into a run.
Only the guilty ran, and there was no way Ben was going to let this outlaw out of his sight. He crashed through the trees and caught up with the man just as the tree line gave way to a stony piece of mountainside. With all his weight, he threw himself into the person. Together, they fell forward onto the few lifeless plants and grasses that covered the ground.
Immediately, the man underneath Ben started struggling. Ben tucked his revolver into its holster and reached to grab the man’s hands . . . only to discover this was no man at all.
He’d felled a woman.
She took his momentary surprise as an opportunity to pull a hand free and
slap him hard across the cheek. “How dare you!” she shrieked. “Remove yourself from me right now!”
Ben shook off the pain that shot through his skin and grabbed both of her hands in his. He doubted Hagan had any women riding with him, although such a thing wasn’t entirely unheard of. “Who are you?” he demanded.
She yanked her arms, but she was no match against him.
“Answer me, and I’ll let you go.”
Her green eyes, almost brown in the dusk, narrowed, and she pushed against him again. “I’m Penelope May,” she said, breathless. “I work at the hotel.”
Ben paused. Was she telling the truth? It would be an easy lie, if she were indeed with Hagan. “How do I know you’re speaking the truth?”
“You’ve met me.” She shot the words at him as if they were fire.
He studied her face, and then he remembered. She was one of the ladies who’d taken up the cause of one Tom the Cat just a few weeks ago. The outspoken one who’d then gone running after the real culprit as if it were her personal responsibility to see him behind bars. If he remembered correctly, she worked as a Gilbert Girl at the hotel.
And here he was, pinning her to the ground like a common thief. He scrambled off her and reached out to help her up.
She eyed his proffered hand with distaste before rising on her own. Running her hands down her skirts, she sighed loudly upon finding dirt and what looked like a tear near the hem. Her golden-brown hair escaped its pins and fell in soft curls around her face. Her cheeks were red, whether from cold or exertion, Ben didn’t know. She was tall for a woman, but Ben still had several inches on her. When her eyes met his, something strange started through him. Almost as if he’d been meant to meet her again.
He tore his eyes from hers to shake the feeling. When he looked back, she was glaring at him with her hands on her hips.
“Remind me of your name again, sir?”
“Ben Young. Fremont County sheriff.”
“Well, Sheriff Young—”
“Why are you roaming about the mountains on your own? Do you realize how unsafe it is up here?” The words poured out, anger, fear, and embarrassment all colliding together in one great rush of breath.