Hattie

by Vivi Holt

  “I promise, I’ll come back for you.” He reached up to cup her cheek, running his fingertips over her tear-streaked skin.

  “All right.” She sat straight and lifted her chin, taking Fire’s reins in her hands.

  He grinned at her strength, then ran back to the cabin.

  As he skirted the outside of the structure, he pulled one pistol from its holster. He reached a back window, stood beside it for a moment, then leaned inside and shot. Jack Miller dropped onto a low bed with a cry and Hans spun around to face Ed, shooting through the opening. Ed ducked and the bullet whizzed past his head. He popped up again and took aim, firing at the fleeing Hans, who leaped behind an overturned chest of drawers.

  Another man, with a long red beard, sped by the window while Ed pulled his other pistol, joining Hans. Ed fired and fired again, splintering the wood panels in the sturdy chest. But as he reloaded again, the two men burst out from behind it, shooting wildly at the rest of the posse holed up in the living room and barreling out the back door, desperate to get away.

  Ed sprinted around the outside of the cabin in time to see the men running hard for the tree line toward the posse’s horses. Hattie! He ran after them, heart pounding and legs pumping until he reached the tree line. He slowed and crept cautiously into the woods. It wouldn’t do to run into an ambush, and he couldn’t see far enough ahead of himself to tell where the outlaws now were.

  The woods were quiet save for the swish of branches in the evening breeze. His ears fairly burned to hear something, anything, to tell him which way the scoundrels had run. If they’d taken the horses, he’d hear them crashing through the undergrowth.

  One by one the other men from the posse joined him. They were breathing hard, their eyes wide as they glanced around them. The unmistakable click of a shotgun’s hammer reached their ears through the hush. Ed froze and the others stopped still behind him. He could see the horses up ahead, with Hattie.

  The corners of Ed’s mouth twitched up into a grin. Hattie was still seated on his mount, his shotgun raised to her shoulder as she peered down the sights. The end of the weapon was trained directly at Hans’ chest, and both he and the man with the red beard had their hands into the air.

  Ed laughed and ran forward, reholstering his pistols and pulling out handcuffs as he went. “You two are under arrest,” he shouted behind the men. He cuffed Hans, then did the same for the other man.

  The red-bearded one looked at Hans and grumbled, “I told Jack she’d only make trouble for us. Told him a hundred times. Didn’t I?”

  “Shut up,” Hans grunted.

  Ed smiled at Hattie. One glance revealed a steely determination in her eyes he’d never seen before. She still had the gun aimed at Hans, her gaze unwavering. He walked to her side and laid a hand gently on the gun’s muzzle. “You did good, Hattie. You can put that away now.”

  She lowered the weapon and looked at him, her eyes narrowed, then relaxed with a long sigh.

  “When did you learn to use a shotgun?” he asked, tipping his hat back.

  “Father was member of a dove-shooting club on Long Island. Sometimes he’d take me along – much to Mother’s disapproval,” she added.

  He chuckled. “Well, your father has my thanks. If it weren’t for you, they would have gotten away.” He watched Lee and the other men saddle the outlaws’ horses and strap each prisoner, handcuffed and sullen, onto their backs. They had to tie Jack Miller in securely – he was bleeding from a wheezing chest wound, and couldn’t hold himself up.

  Neither, as it turned out, could Hattie, now that the crisis was over. When Ed saw her sway in the saddle, he opened his arms and caught her with a grunt. He lowered her to the ground as her eyelids flickered open. “Water,” she whispered. Then her eyes fell shut again, two dark crescents against pale cheeks.

  He took the canteen from the saddlebag and held it to her lips. She slurped at it, gulping it down. He noted the dark circles beneath her eyes, the scratch on her cheek, the purple bruising on her temple and down her neck. Her dress was torn in several places, with buttons hanging loose, and he could see another bruise near her elbow where the fabric of her sleeve had fallen away. He bit his lower lip and felt the blood rush to his head. What had they done to her? If only he hadn’t taken so long to find her, he could have prevented all of this.

  Her eyes fell open again and she tried to sit up. He helped her to her feet, then looped an arm beneath her legs and gently lifted her back onto his horse. Her head lolled and she shuddered as he moved behind her and wrapped an arm tightly around her middle. With the reins in his other hand, he clicked his tongue and Fire set off sedately down the hillside. “All right, boys,” he called over his shoulder. “’Bout time we headed home.”

  The posse sent up a ragged cheer. Lee took charge of the prisoners and the rest of the men helped him shepherd their charges back to town. It was a tired but content crew that trotted into Coloma that evening.

  By the time they arrived, Hattie was shivering with shock, whimpering against his chest. “I’ll take you to Sally’s – she’ll look after you,” he whispered into her hair.

  “No!” she declared forcefully. “No, not Sally’s.”

  “Well … why not?”

  Those four words had sapped most of her energy – her reply was mumbled toward the ground. “She said if I stayed there … I’d have to … just don’t take me there.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  But where would he take her? It would have to be his apartment above the sheriff’s office. It’d been a temporary home for him when he first accepted the position. He’d always intended to purchase a patch of land outside town where he could build a cabin, raise chickens and a family, God permitting. But he’d never met a woman he’d consider sharing his life with until now. So he’d stayed in the cramped quarters that stank of stale bread and sweat.

  But since Sally’s wasn’t an option, and the hotels in town were no place for a single woman in bad shape — nor did he feel right leaving her alone — his place would have to do for tonight.

  He followed slowly behind Lee and the others down the lamplit street. They dismounted, hauled Hans and the red-bearded outlaw into the sheriff’s office and locked them in the jail cells. One of the posse had taken the wounded Jack Miller ahead of the others, and the town doctor was working on him on Hans’ desk.

  Ed walked Fire behind the office to the stables, where Hattie half-climbed, half-fell into his arms. He carried her in through the back door, past the cells and the prisoners and the doc working to save Jack Miller’s sorry life, and upstairs to his apartment.

  He set her on her feet just as the apartment door burst open and Daisy barreled through, her face white beneath her bruises. “Is it Hattie? Ye found her! I saw you ridin’ by the saloon and came as quick as I could. Is she all right?” She rushed to Hattie’s side and stroked the hair back from her forehead with gentle fingertips.

  Ed nodded. “I think so. Just a bit bruised and cold.” He went to a closet against the wall, pulled out two blankets and a towel and laid them on the bed, then watched the two women whisper together, Daisy’s arms tight around Hattie. “I’m gonna let the doc know she’s up here. I don’t know how long he’ll be,” he added, carefully pulling the door closed behind him.

  He leaned against the door and sighed. The sight of her, so pale and bruised, had filled him with rage, and he’d ridden that dark energy home. But now it was over. The Miller Gang was locked up downstairs. Hattie was in his apartment, alive and safe. And after the last few weeks, he was on the verge of collapse. But his work wasn’t done.

  He rubbed his face with his hands, his eyes squeezed shut, then headed downstairs.

  The doctor had finished treating Jack Miller, who was now asleep on a mat on the floor of his cell, wrapped in a dry blanket. Ed combed his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair in relief. “Hey, Doc. I’ve got Hattie Stout upstairs. Do you think you could check on her before you leave?”

  “Sure thing,
Sheriff. Glad you finally found the girl. How’s she seem?”

  “Bruised, a bit disoriented, but all right … I think.” His chest tightened. Who knew what had happened to her in the last week? “Let me know if there’s anythin’ I can do to help?”

  The doctor smiled. “I’m sure she’d like some hot food and something to drink.”

  Ed grinned, glad to be given a task. He watched the doctor head upstairs, then hurried outside. He’d see if Sally would give him some food – and while he was at it, he could pack up Hattie’s things and bring them back to his place. He put his hat back on and stepped out into the night.

  Chapter 12

  Hattie pulled the blanket up higher over her shoulder and rolled onto her side. She yawned and rubbed her eyes as the bright California sun peeped beneath the drapes.

  She sat up, pulled back the curtain and stared down at the stables below. A coyote trotted through the yard, and she heard the stamp of hooves against the hard ground. One of the horses whinnied, and the wild animal stopped in its tracks, glancing around the yard. Then a dog ran barking across the packed dirt, and the coyote bolted down the lane and disappeared from view, the dog in hot pursuit.

  She smiled. It was good to be alive, well and snug in the sheriff’s bed. She didn’t know how many days it had been since he rescued her, but it must have been several. When she’d first arrived, she’d been so tired, thirsty, hungry and sore she’d slept for the better part of three days before finally feeling somewhat better.

  She stretched her arms over her head with another yawn, then swung her feet to the ground and stood with a satisfied sigh. A glance in the looking glass he’d kindly set up for her revealed that most of her bruising was gone now. She frowned as a thought occurred to her – where was he sleeping? She hadn’t thought to ask him that.

  Daisy snored at her feet, on her back with one arm flung above her head. Her sleeping mat was pushed up close to Hattie’s bed. But it already felt like home to her after only a few weeks. Daisy had come to help take care of her that first night, and never left except to go back to the Roan Horse and pack her own things. Now everything the two women owned was piled high in a corner of Ed’s small apartment. Ed had done nothing more than arch an eyebrow when he saw it.

  She tiptoed around Daisy and poured herself a glass of water from the jug. As she gulped the cool liquid, she couldn’t help thinking about what might come next. She fingered the necklace her father gave her, which Ed had recovered from the Miller Gang’s cabin. Ed had been so kind to let them use his apartment and eat his food, but they couldn’t stay there forever. They’d have to come up with a plan to face the future soon.

  At least she didn’t have to worry about Jack Miller. From what she understood, he and his fellow outlaws were wanted in several northern California counties and had been sent to Sacramento to stand trial. The man with the red beard had turned out to be Peter Miller, Jack’s brother. The cells downstairs stood empty once again and life in Coloma had returned to normal. And most importantly, her petition for annulment had been granted the morning after Jack’s capture. She was free of the blackguard forever.

  She set the glass back on the table beside the water jug and dressed slowly, enjoying the summer heat as she sat before the looking glass to fix her hair.

  It would be fall soon, her favorite season – at least it had been back in New York. The black trunks of the trees would stand stark and grim in the frosty air as leaves turned red, yellow and orange, then dropped to the ground to coat it like a warm blanket. She’d tug up her coat collar and layer herself with scarves and hats, stockings and boots, or sit before a warm fire, roasting chestnuts and sipping hot coffee or chocolate. She couldn’t imagine what fall in California might be like.

  She considered how much she missed home – her family, her friends. Why hadn’t she heard from any of them? She hadn’t received a single letter since she arrived, though she’d sent several. She knew her parents were likely very busy trying to rebuild their name and reputation, not to mention the family fortune. But she’d love to hear from them, just the same.

  A quiet knock on the door made her heart skip. She finished buttoning the bodice of her dress, then went to the door and opened it. Ed was standing there, hat in hand and blue eyes sparkling. “Good mornin’, Hattie,” he said with a grin.

  “Good morning, Ed. How are you on this fine day?” In the weeks since she’d been there, she’d come to anticipate the sheriff’s daily visits. He always brought her something – a bunch of wildflowers, a book he’d borrowed, a treat from the bakery. Then they’d sit together on the porch swing out front and talk about his day, or hers, their hopes and dreams.

  “Just dandy, thank you. And you? Are you feelin’ better?”

  She laughed. “You ask me that every day. And every day I tell you yes, I’m feeling much better. Thank you kindly.”

  He brought his right hand from behind his back and thrust a bunch of colorful flowers toward her with a smile. “Oh, they’re beautiful, Ed. Thank you.” She took them and smelled their sweet aroma. It wouldn’t be long before they’d be gone for the year and she wouldn’t see another until spring. She took a glass, filled it with water, set the flowers in it and put them on a table against the far wall, away from the beds.

  Ed rested his hand on his hip and leaned against the door jamb. “Would you like to take a walk? I’ve got a little time before I have to get to work.”

  She nodded and reached for her bonnet on a peg by the door. As she closed the door behind her, she chuckled at the loud snore that reverberated across the room.

  “Daisy’s still sleeping?” he asked, as they descended the narrow staircase together.

  “Yes, she is. I swear, she could sleep through peak hour at Grand Central Depot.” She laughed and took the sheriff’s offered arm to walk outside.

  The town had woken already, and miners trudged through the streets on their way to the mines. Farmers trundled by in wagons, loaded with bags of seed or other supplies. Children with lunch pails swinging from eager hands hurried toward the schoolhouse on a rise opposite the church, the sun glinting off its newly whitewashed walls.

  They wandered in that direction and soon found themselves passing the schoolhouse. Children skipped with ropes, drew in the dirt or chased each other around the building while they waited for the schoolmistress to open the doors and order them inside. Hattie laughed at their antics and the smile didn’t leave her face as she soaked up the sunshine. She glanced at Ed, who watched her with interest, his eyes wide and full of passion.

  He stopped and took both her hands in his. “Hattie …”

  “I don’t know if I’ve thanked you enough for letting Daisy and me stay in your apartment,” she interrupted.

  He swallowed hard. “Yes, you have. You’ve thanked me plenty –”

  “It’s just that I don’t know what we would have done if it weren’t for you. You rescued me, gave us a place to stay, fed us, taken care of us. And I know it’s probably time for us to move on – you’ve certainly done more than anyone could expect …”

  He cut her off, his eyebrows drawn low. “Move on?”

  “Well, we can’t stay in your apartment forever. I mean, where are you even sleeping?”

  “Downstairs, at my desk.”

  “You see? We’ve completely displaced you. You should be upstairs in your own bed, in your snug apartment. I feel terrible about it.”

  He spun away from her, his hands in the air. “But what will you do? Where will you go?” His voice trembled with emotion.

  She frowned. “Well, I’m not sure just yet. I had been trying to save to return to New York, but then Sally … you know.” Her voice trailed off.

  “Yes, I do.”

  She’d told him all about Sally’s ultimatum when he suggested she move back into the Roan Horse a few days after her rescue.

  Her head hung low. “Daisy warned me she would do just what she did, but I didn’t believe her. I thought Sally was my friend
as well. But she wasn’t – she just cares about herself. Hans hurt Daisy, and Sally didn’t do anything about it. As long as Hans paid, she didn’t care what he did to Daisy …” Her voice broke and tears trailed down her cheeks.

  He reached up and brushed them away. “I’m so sorry, Hattie. I should never have suggested you stay there. I thought you’d be fine as a kitchen hand or maid. I don’t know why I … well, I just should’ve found you someplace else. I’m sorry.” He wound his arms around her back and pulled her against him.

  She sobbed into his shirt, wetting it with her tears. Her hands bunched as fists beneath her chin and she shivered under his touch. The warmth of his chest calmed her soul.

  When she’d cried all she could and her body stopped trembling, he tilted up her chin to look at him. His eyes were full of love. She marveled at the lines that ran down his tanned cheeks, ending in soft dimples above his full beard, the ocean of blue in the depths of his eyes and the soft curl that fell dark over his forehead. She exhaled slowly, her gaze never leaving his. They were joined together, soul to soul, by a look that shut out the world.

  “There’s something I promised to tell you before Jack took me. Do you remember that?”

  He nodded.

  “I found a way to end my marriage to Jack, as though it never happened. It’s all final – remember when Tom Small came by the day after you brought me back? He finished all the paperwork that day. I’m not married to Jack anymore.”

  His eyes widened and he lifted a hand to rub his beard. “Hattie … then I can say what I’ve wanted to say for months. I don’t want you to leave.” His voice was low and soft. “I want you to stay. Forever.”

  She tilted her head, her eyes narrowed. “Forever? Are you sure, Ed? Forever certainly is a long time.” She was teasing, but her heart jitterbugged and she broke out in a cold sweat.

  “I sure hope it’s a long time, because I never want to be without you. I want to marry you. Will you have me?” His fingers grazed her cheek and traced the outline of her jaw, making her skin tingle.