Here Comes McBride (Journey's End Book 1)

by Victoria Phelps

  Ellie poured water from a pitcher into a matching bowl and splashed her face and neck. “It does feel good to get clean.” She took off the boy’s clothes and unwrapped the fabric that bound her breasts. “Now that is heaven. That old bandage was chafing me raw.”

  “Let me help with your hair.” Caroline removed the leather tie from the end of the braid and unwound the long plait. “Your hair is beautiful.” Picking up her brush, she stroked the river of red that ran to Ellie’s waist.

  Ellie dropped the dress over her head and fastened the little buttons running in a straight line up the front. “We’re pretty near the same size,” she said.

  “I hope to be that size again.” Caroline’s laugh was rueful and ragged.

  Ellie ran her hands over her hips and peeked in the wavy mirror on the wall. “Not much of a disguise. I look like me only in a nicer dress.” She stuck her tongue out at her image and spun toward the door.

  Male voices, boots and a key in the lock—the men were back.

  “Hope you’re in the mood for fried chicken.” Lars stuttered to a stop. “Well, God almighty, look at you,” he exhaled. “If you aren’t the prettiest thing I’ve seen in a month of Sundays.”

  His pale blue eyes lingered on her breasts. By the time those eyes traveled down her body and up again, it was like she had itching powder in her underwear. She could barely hold still. Then he looked her straight in the eye. That pale blue had acquired a dark intensity adding fuel to the personal fire raging between her legs.

  She squirmed.

  “You are a beautiful woman,” Lars said, as he ran a calloused hand down the flaming locks, “and this hair could give a man a lifetime of dreams, but you were a purely pitiful boy.”

  “Fried chicken sounds wonderful,” Caroline chirped, bringing the heat level in the room down a notch. “Sven, would you spread a blanket on the floor for Micah? We might as well confine the mess.”

  Ellie accepted her plate filled with chicken, mashed potatoes, carrots and cornbread with a frown. “I don’t have any money.”

  “Don’t worry about that.” Lars motioned at her plate. “Eat.”

  Well, nobody had to tell her twice. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday noon when she ran away from the Prescott Hotel. She was used to regular meals, and she’d like to keep it that way.

  After sweeping her hair behind her shoulders, she attacked the food with serious intent.

  Lars nodded. A half-smile of satisfaction relieving the tension in that rigid jaw.

  Forks scraping, knives cutting, and happy hums from the diners were the only noise in the room until Micah shouted, “Oki, no.”

  Loki was wiggling towards Micah’s food one tiny paw pull at a time.

  Caroline laughed. “Micah doesn’t usually eat on the floor. The temptation is too great for the dog. Sven, call Loki.”

  “Come, Loki,” Sven called him to his side. “I’m going to let him have the scraps. If he wasn’t hungry, he wouldn’t bother Micah.”

  When Loki was scarfing scraps at his master’s feet, Caroline returned to the dinner basket and removed a cherry pie.

  “Thank you, Sven. You know how I have craved sweets.” She turned a brilliant smile on her husband.

  “You’re welcome, sweetheart. I believe you’re not the only one who will enjoy a piece of that pie.” Sven said before dropping a slow wink in her direction.

  “Pie.” Micah toddled toward the pastry. “Pie,” he repeated.

  “Sit down on your blanket, and I’ll get you a piece.” Caroline pointed. The boy returned to his spot, plunked down onto his bottom and waved his fork. Warm laughter rippled through the room.

  “That was mighty fine eating,” Ellie declared as she scraped the final crumbs from her plate and popped them in her mouth. “I’ll just be on my way.” She rose from her chair. “If you men would step out, I’ll put on my own clothes and give the dress back to Caroline.”

  “Hold your horses, Ellie. We need to get some answers. Why were you disguised as a boy? Where are you going? Who is Simon Prescott, and why are you running from him?” Lars loomed over the small redhead.

  “Mister, you don’t want to get messed up in my troubles. I’m trying to help you. You’re safer if I leave.” Tension stiff and stifling twisted her stomach into a tight knot and had her shoulders reaching for her ears.

  “I’ll be the judge of that. Tell me,” Lars commanded.

  Caroline wiped Micah’s face with a wet rag and changed his diaper. She laid him in the center of the bed and covered him with a light blanket before confronting her brother-in-law. “Lars, she’s a grown woman. Let her make her own decisions.”

  He snorted. “She don’t look more than half-grown, and I do believe you know better than to think Sven and I will let a woman put herself in danger.”

  A blush rose from the neck of her dress and bloomed on her pale cheeks.

  “Stay out of it, Caroline.” Sven’s words were more demand than request.

  “All right,” she conceded. “Lord knows I haven’t got the fight of a newborn kitten right now.” She lowered into the chair by the window to enjoy the misty breeze and fanned her face. “I’m hot one minute and freezing the next.” She sighed. “Ellie, you might as well tell us your story. I don’t think you’re leaving until you do.”

  Ellie looked at the two men towering in front of her. Mercy! No wonder the Vikings plundered and pillaged with such success. “Well, I guess it can’t do no harm,” she allowed. “First of all, I’m not half-grown, I am fully grown.” She glared at Lars. “I turned eighteen last month,” she huffed.

  “Beg pardon,” Lars scoffed. “I didn’t realize you were a woman of such mature years.”

  Oh, that man rattled her. He was so big and bossy and arrogant and nosey, and he sent odd little hot shivers roving wherever he looked—her arm, her legs, her bosom. He needed to keep those transparent, pale eyes on her face. She huffed once more for good measure.

  Lars pointed at the empty chair still sitting in the center of the room. The chair upon which she had so recently been spanked. That memory shot an extra hot, steaming shiver from head to toe, and then it landed in her abdomen with the thrust of a spear. She gave the chair a glare of suspicious scrutiny before she lowered her bottom to the hard surface.

  “I don’t know where to begin.” Ellie scrunched her forehead until her brows met in the middle.

  “How about the beginning?” Lars suggested.

  “Well, I guess that would be when my pa came to California looking for gold. He joined about half the world and hustled out here when word went out that gold had been discovered at Sutter’s Mill. He staked a claim and worked it and worked it until he did have a little luck. Not big like the Prescott strike but more than many men who worked themselves near to death came away with.” She glared at the floor before moving on. “My pa left the gold digs behind and figured to live here in San Francisco. He opened the Pay Dirt Hotel, and it was a right big success. Good food, clean rooms, and he didn’t cheat nobody.”

  “All right, but you still haven’t mentioned the Prescotts,” Lars said.

  “I’m getting there. Hold your horses.” Ellie rolled her eyes. “Luther Prescott arrived in the gold fields with his teen-age son, Matthew. He struck it big, really big. They brought their money to San Francisco, and Luther bought property and invested until he was the richest man around. He ran for California Senate and won. He’s lived in Sacramento ever since. Looks like to be governor someday.” She paused. “Matthew took over the family empire here, but, unlike his pa, he’s a crook. He threatened, bribed and stole what he couldn’t buy. My pa got into a card game with the man and lost. He swore Matthew cheated, but he’d bet the Pay Dirt and lost.”

  “He lost his business?” Sven asked. “His hotel?”

  “Yes, sir, he did. Matthew renamed it the Prescott Hotel. Pa was flat busted again. He had a wife and two kids to care for. My older brother Mitch and me.”

  “How old were you?” Lars s
hook his head.

  “I was two. Mitch was three. He headed back to pan for gold, but it was pretty played out by then. He sent money to my ma until we got word he’d died. Don’t know how. Plenty of ways for a miner to get himself killed.” Ellie twisted her fingers into a white knot. “Ma got a job working at the Prescott Hotel. The same place my pa once owned. We shared a room in the back, but at least we were dry and fed.”

  “What about Simon? How does he fit into this story?” Caroline asked.

  “Simon is Matthew’s son. Matthew’s a liar and a cheat, but Simon’s evil. He’s one mean son of a bitch.” She glanced at Sven. “Sorry, but the truth is the truth.”

  “All right, but that’s the last swear word I expect to hear.” Lars glowered. “Women who swear get a spanking in our house.”

  “Don’t try it, mister,” Ellie spluttered.

  “Don’t swear,” he countered. “Tell me about Simon.”

  Ellie scrunched her forehead and gazed with sightless eyes out the window. “Simon must have been twelve or so when we moved into the hotel. Mama kept me close to her or one of the other women who worked there watched me. But Mitch, well, he was a boy and full of the devil. It wasn’t long before he’d drawn Simon’s notice. Simon hounded Mitch, pinched him, pushed him down the stairs, bloodied his nose, twisted his arm until Mitch screamed. He was the boss’ son, so nobody said nothing. When Mitch was fifteen, he took off on his own. He said it was either that or he’d kill Simon, and he would have swung for sure. Haven’t heard from him since.”

  “Simon was a bully,” Sven mused.

  “Yup, I guess so. But he was a bully with a mean streak two miles wide,” Ellie said. “The older I got, the more Mama kept me out of sight. She’d hustle me in and out of the back door after school looking both ways before she pulled me inside. She was scared shi…” she paused. “She was mighty scared.”

  Lars’ lips turned up at the corners in a little bitty half-smile. Ellie felt a smidgeon of tension melt like water dripping slow from the pump. Just that tiny, steady drip. She was glad she’d pleased him, and she didn’t know why. It made her head hurt. He was nothing to her. Less than nothing. In fact, he was the man who stood in the way of her freedom. If she didn’t get clear of San Francisco and beyond Simon’s reach, she was a goner.

  “Mama got consumption and passed about six months ago.” Ellie dashed a tear from her cheek and swallowed hard.

  “I’m so sorry, dear,” Caroline whispered.

  “Thank you, ma’am. Well, the manager told me that Matthew would notice an empty room. I had to leave or start working. I took over Mama’s job, and that’s when I found out about Simon.” Ellie paused and looked at each of them in turn.

  “Go ahead,” Lars encouraged.

  “In the attic there was a little room, and Simon took girls there.” She closed her eyes tightly. Her fists clenched into hard balls. “One day I heard screaming, and I ran to tell another maid, one who had been Mama’s friend. She said I needed to know. She couldn’t always keep me safe now that I was working the rooms. Simon, he liked young girls, untried ones, if you know what I mean.” A brief nod circled the room. “He found girls without family wandering the streets or he’d steal one from the missionary school. The priests knew better than to complain about a missing Indian girl. Nobody would care.” Ellie scowled and frowned and scowled again. “When the girls were hustled out of that room, they were bloody and scared. They had black eyes, whip marks, bruises and burns. He kept them there for a week or so, and then they disappeared. It’s said he sold them to a white slaver who took them to Shanghai. Wherever they ended up, I’m sure it was bad. I was to stay out of his way. Keep my hair tied up in a scarf. Go unnoticed.”

  Silence filled the room like a creeping beast. Its presence palpable but unseen. Sven crossed the room to stand by his wife and draped an arm around her shoulders. Lars approached her chair, lifted her into his arms as if she were a feather, a flower, a broken bird and settled her on his lap. He encircled her with strong arms and pulled her head to his shoulder.

  “Shhh, darling, he can’t get you here,” he murmured.

  It was then, at that moment, she realized tears flowed down her cheeks and soaked the front of Caroline’s beautiful green dress. There was no sobbing, just a river of tears. It was as if her grief, her fear, was too big for gulping and whimpering. She was a bottomless well, a fountain.

  Lars pulled a large, red handkerchief from his pocket and mopped her face. “Then what?” he asked.

  “I was cleaning a fireplace in one of the fancy guestrooms when my mama’s friend ran in and shut the door behind her. I knew something was wrong. That woman was trembling head to toe. She’d overheard Simon say he’d seen a redheaded gal working at the hotel, and he was coming for her.” Ellie gripped Lars’ arm until her fingers were bloodless. “She shoved those boy’s clothes I was wearing into my arms. Said to change into them. Said, ‘Run, Ellie. Run, and don’t come back’.”

  She paused to wipe tears from her ravaged face. “I ran. I ran, but I didn’t have no money. How could I leave the city without money? I’d be one of those poor, homeless girls Simon found begging on the street. He’d get me either way. Well, that’s when we met.” She twisted to look Lars straight in the eye. “I’m sorry I tried to steal from you. I just didn’t know what else to do.” Her shoulders sagged. Ellie leaned into Lars’ big, male chest. It was a comfort to be supported in his strong arms. It was a balm to inhale his unique scent of man, horse, sweat and fresh air.

  Silence again permeated the room, but this time it buzzed, vibrated. Communication between the two brothers sliced the air.

  “We’re heading north in the morning.” Lars broke the silence. “We can hide you in our wagon. Get you away from San Francisco.”

  Hope bloomed. Ellie lifted her head to survey the family. “You’d do that for me?”

  “We wouldn’t leave a woman in such trouble.” Sven stated this as a hard, cold fact.

  She could be safe. She could get away from Simon. She could… her shoulders sagged to their lowest point yet.

  “No, you’d best go on without me. Simon doesn’t give up. He’s got his mind set on me, and he’ll find me. I don’t want to bring trouble to you.” She attempted to stand, but Lars pulled her back to his lap.

  “We won’t leave you to face Simon alone, so put that out of your pretty head,” Lars growled. “We will hide you in our wagon and put this city behind us. We are heading for the Siskiyou Trail and following it to Oregon.” She felt his lips drop a light kiss on her temple. The spot burned with delicious heat.

  “Thank you. Once we’re quit of San Francisco I’ll be all right on my own.” She didn’t truly believe that, but she couldn’t risk the safety of this family.

  “We’ll see about that. I got a feeling I might want to keep you,” Lars squeezed her shoulders and chuckled. “Sven and me can keep you safe as long as you do as you’re told. We don’t crave a run-in with Simon any more than you do. I reckon you know how I handle disobedience.” A light pat reignited the fire in her bottom.

  “You can’t mean… you thought I was a boy,” she stammered. “I won’t stand for it.”

  “Do as you’re told and no spanking,” he reassured. “We need to keep you, Caroline, and Micah safe. We can’t take any chances.” Lars lifted one eyebrow until it disappeared under his hair. “It’s best you understand from the get-go.”

  “All right.” Ellie’s voice was a small whisper.

  “All right, you know you’ll be spanked for disobedience, for putting yourself or others in danger. Say it. I won’t have any misunderstandings between us,” Lars demanded.

  “I’ll be,” Ellie choked. She tried once more. “I’ll be sp- sp- spanked.”

  Lars gave her another meaningful pat.

  “I’ll be spanked for disobedience or for putting myself or others in danger,” she spat the words.

  Lars and Sven nodded in unison. Ellie swiveled her head from one man to th
e other as if they played a game of catch.

  “Only by you,” she patted Lars’ chest with her small hand.

  “Only me,” Lars agreed.

  Ellie snuggled closer to the man’s warmth. It was mighty fine to share her troubles. Hope surged like a rising tide.

  Lars rubbed comfort into her back. “Sven, I’m sorry, but I guess the women will need to share this room, and we’ll sleep in mine. We’ll leave Loki with them. He’ll set up a ruckus if there’s any trouble. If that’s all right with Caroline.”

  “Yes, of course, we’ll be fine,” Caroline agreed.

  Lars rose and set Ellie on her feet. “Lock the door. Don’t leave the room for any reason.”

  Lars leaned down and whispered into her ear so only she could hear. “I thought your bottom was too round and soft to belong to a scrawny boy. Lord, but I’m glad it didn’t.”

  “We’ll see you ladies in the morning.” Sven kissed his wife and patted his sleeping son before moving toward the door. “Lock the door, and…”

  “Don’t leave the room for any reason,” Ellie and Caroline chanted in unison.

  “Good girls.” Lars rewarded Ellie with a scorching smile. “See you bright and early.”

  “Thank you.” Ellie’s lip trembled. She didn’t guess she had any more water in her exhausted body, but she’d been wrong.

  “No more tears, Ellie girl.” Lars cupped her cheek in his large hand.

  Ellie girl. She liked it. She could get used to it. It fit.

  Yup, she thought, she could be Ellie girl.

  If they could get away and leave Simon behind, she could be his Ellie girl.

  Chapter 3

  “Open the door, Caroline. It’s Lars.” His knuckles rapped a quick tattoo.

  The door opened a crack and Caroline peered out the slight opening before allowing his entrance. “Good morning, Lars.” She poked her head into the hallway and looked left, right, and left once more. “Where’s Sven?” she asked.

  “He’s gone to get the wagon. I came to tell you the plans. Then I’ll go help him,” he replied.