Anyplace But Here (Oklahoma Lovers Series Book 5)
Page 1
Table of Contents
ANYPLACE BUT HERE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
ANYPLACE BUT HERE
CALLIE HUTTON
SOUL MATE PUBLISHING
New York
BY CALLIE HUTTON
A Run for Love
A Prescription for Love
A Wife by Christmas
An Angel in the Mail
ANYPLACE BUT HERE
Copyright©2015
CALLIE HUTTON
Cover Design by Rae Monet, Inc.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
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Published in the United States of America by
Soul Mate Publishing
P.O. Box 24
Macedon, New York, 14502
ISBN: 978-1-61935-825-6
www.SoulMatePublishing.com
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Anyplace But Here is dedicated to
Tori Henderson and Jesse Cochran
from A Run For Love
who started this whole thing.
Chapter 1
Galveston, Texas
March, 1907
“You’ll do exactly what I tell you to do!” Louis Smith wiped the spittle from his mouth with one hand, and sloshed scotch from his glass as he slammed it down on the dining room table with the other. “You belong to me. And don’t you ever forget it!”
Emily leaned back in her chair, knowing from the look on her husband’s face that this could easily turn into another beating. One of many she’d endured over the past three years. “I will do what you tell me, Louis. I’m just not sure what you want.” She tried to keep the pleading tone out of her voice which could easily trigger a backhand slap across her mouth.
He leaned over and grabbed her arm, dragging her halfway across the dining table. She kept her expression blank and briefly thought of what long-sleeved dress she could wear to Marigold Fenster’s tea the next afternoon to hide the black and blue marks that would surely result. Thinking of normal things kept her mind from dwelling on what might happen if Louis’s hair-trigger temper snapped.
“It’s very simple, you stupid ass. When you go to that Fenster thing tomorrow, make sure you find out who she’s sleeping with. I need something to dissuade her from asking too many questions about her money.”
How she hated this. And, God forgive her, hated him. Snooping on her friends to help Louis continue to cheat them caused her stomach to roil. She couldn’t do it anymore. The time had come to dig up the box she’d buried behind the gardener’s shed last year. The jewels and cash in there would get her far away from Louis and Galveston.
“I’ll ask her, but she is somewhat closed-mouthed.”
He yanked her farther until his nose and hers were only inches apart. “Well, you find a way to open it.”
The blue spider veins on his nose and cheeks were out of place in a man so young. But at thirty-seven, the hard life Louis had led, drinking, carousing, and God knows what all, had taken its toll. How had she ever thought this man would take care of her? Perhaps the fact that he kept his violent streak well hidden until their wedding night had something to do with it.
Pushing those unpleasant memories to the back of her mind, she said, “I’ll try.”
He shoved her back so hard she slammed against her chair, tumbling to the floor. He stumbled as he moved around the table and stood over her. “You’d better do more than try.” He leaned in further, the stench of his alcohol-laden breath causing her to turn her head aside. “Remember, bitch, I can kill you just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “And make it look like an unfortunate accident.”
He kicked her in the ribs, then laughed as he dusted off the sleeves of his jacket and straightened his tie. “Get out of here. I can’t stand the sight of you. You’re such a weak, sniveling little girl. Still hoping your daddy will come back to life and make it all right.” He walked unsteadily to the table and sat, taking up his glass. “Get out, I said!”
Emily scurried out the door, closing it behind her with a sigh of relief. Sore ribs and a bruised arm was nothing compared to what Louis was capable of. She walked directly to the back of the mansion and straight out the door. The last of the evening sun cast the gardens into a soft, mellow hue. Her fingers itched to paint the scene, but she had something more important to do. And Louis had busted up and thrown away all of her art materials the prior week anyway.
Retrieving a small shovel from the wall of the shed, she cast a furtive glance around the area before circling the small building. Panting heavily from fear of discovery, she counted thirty-two steps from the left side of the structure, six steps forward, then stopped and began to dig.
The next afternoon, Emily took the chauffer’s extended hand and stepped out of the automobile. She smiled brightly at Martin. “Thank you. You may return for me about five o’clock.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The man tipped his hat and returned to the car as she started up the steps. She took her time, pausing as if she had found something on her heel. As she fiddled with her shoe, she watched from beneath the brim of her hat as Martin pulled away from the front of Marigold’s house. The sleek vehicle entered the combination traffic of carriages and automobiles and soon disappeared from sight.
Holding her head high, as if she had no further business than a stroll around the block, Emily turned and walked down the path away from the Fenster home and made a right turn onto the sidewalk. The strong smell of ocean air mixed with the scent of her fear spurred her on. She had exactly fifteen minutes to walk the mile to the train station, buy her ticket, and board the train heading to Oklahoma City in Oklahoma Territory, where she would transfer to the train for Guthrie.
She arrived at the ticket office flushed an
d out of breath, but in plenty of time. With the ticket clutched firmly in her hand and the letter from The Harvey Houses snug in her reticule, she tapped her foot, anxious to be gone. Hopefully the job they’d offered her three weeks ago was still open. If not, she would find something else.
The wait for the delayed train was torture. She purchased a newspaper and held it up to cover her face as she sat on the bench praying the train would come before someone recognized her. Since Louis kept her mostly home and away from forming any close relationships, the chance was slight, but still there.
Emily closed her eyes and whispered a prayer of thanks at the sound of train wheels screeching as it slid to a halt outside the small building. She gathered up her things and quickly climbed the stairs to enter the train. She made her way through two cars before she found a seat. Settling onto the bench, she checked the watch pinned to her shirtwaist. Right about now Marigold would be wondering where she was. But it would be more than two hours before Martin arrived at the Fenster’s house for her.
She jerked as the train started up and then slowly moved into a smooth rhythm as it proceeded out of the Galveston station. The fluttering in her stomach turned from nervousness to excitement. She’d done it! She’d taken her life back from Louis Smith.
Smiling brightly, Emily watched the town fall behind her. In front of her was her new life. All she had to do was remain hidden.
Three months later
Guthrie, Oklahoma Territory
Hunter Henderson climbed out of the motorcar taxi, fumbling as he tried to pay the driver without dropping his crutches. He shoved his change into his pocket and picked up his satchel, throwing it over his shoulder. The taxi pulled away, spewing dust behind it.
Home.
A place he hadn’t seen in years. Thirteen, to be exact, had passed since he’d called this place home. He walked out of this house at eighteen years of age, two days after he graduated high school, and never looked back. Oh, he did drop the occasional letter over the years, but since he was always on the move, there was no way to receive return letters. For all he knew his entire family could have up and moved to another state.
Except the man who’d driven him from the train station said Senator Jesse Cochran and his wife, Tori still lived at this address. Senator. When he’d left, Uncle Jesse was merely a lawyer. What other changes would he find? Hunter wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his denims and shifted the crutches under his armpits. Slowly shuffling along, he made his way up the path, thankful there were no steps to climb. He remembered quite a bit about this house, where he’d lived for about four years.
Even before he’d seen anyone, the memories flooded back. Things he hadn’t thought of in years. Tori making the Land Run back in ‘89 dressed as a man. Rachel running away from home, back to Kansas, forcing Uncle Jesse and Tori to go after her. Ellie, his baby sister, run over by a wagon soon after they’d settled on their piece of land. And watching it happen, unable to stop it. Like all the other times in his life when he was useless. It all came rushing back in a flash.
Except for the one memory he’d taught his brain to suppress. The one that only rose to torture him while he slept. No matter that it had happened eighteen years ago. If he allowed the memory to slither like a snake into his brain the venom would crush him. Not until he found retribution would he allow the picture he’d shoved to the back of his mind to emerge again. And vanquish it forever.
“Hunter? Is that you?” Tori stood not more than six feet from him, poised in the open doorway, apparently on her way out.
“Yes. It’s me.”
“Oh, my goodness.” She covered her cheeks with her gloved hands and burst into tears, leaving him feeling more helpless than he had in years. “You’re home.”
Home. Yes, he guessed he was.
Later he would not remember what had happened between the time Tori had thrown herself into his arms, almost knocking his crutches out from under him, and when he found himself sitting in the library, surrounded by family.
Everyone was talking at once. Uncle Jesse and Tori’s kids were grown now, having been mere babies when he’d left. Seventeen-year-old Paul was the spitting image of Uncle Jesse. Twins Priscilla and Henry at fifteen were taller than Tori. Benjamin, who’d been a babe in Tori’s arms the last time he’d seen him, was a gangly thirteen-year-old, with spectacles and a serious demeanor.
He shuddered at the memories of his own thirteenth year. Then pushed them from his mind.
And Uncle Jesse. Hunter watched him as he teased and joked with his family. This was the man who’d kept them all together when they’d arrived in Oklahoma and he married Tori. Their rock. But as much as he loved and respected his uncle, Hunter had never confided in him the burden he carried around like an albatross. Perhaps if he’d stuck around . . . but he’d been itching to leave, start his quest. Prove to himself he wasn’t as worthless as he thought. Something that still eluded him.
“I see you have crutches there with you. Care to tell us what happened?” Uncle Jesse’s grin was familiar and welcoming.
Hunter grew serious. “About two months ago, I was on an assignment for the Rangers when I was shot three times in my right leg.” He paused when Tori and Priscilla gasped. “The bone shattered and the doctor put me back together as best he could, but he advised me to find another line of work.”
Uncle Jesse shook his head. “Sorry about that, son. I know the Rangers meant everything to you.”
Just those few words of comfort almost undid Hunter even more than the doctor’s painful announcement. It wouldn’t do to unman himself further by allowing the tears burning at the back of his eyes to make an appearance. He shrugged, indicating indifference, when he was breaking up inside. “I’ll get by.”
“May I hope you’re home for good?” Tori touched his hand in sympathy, something else he wasn’t prepared to accept.
“Let’s just say right now I have nowhere to go.”
“Nonsense.” Jesse waved his hand. “You always have somewhere to go. This will always be your home.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it, but I do need to find some type of work. I just don’t know what else I could do.”
Uncle Jesse slapped his thighs and stood. “That’s not something we need to worry about now. Just get yourself healed first.” He reached for Hunter’s satchel. “Right now I think we should get you settled in your room.”
“Can he sleep with me? I want to hear all about the Texas Rangers,” Henry asked.
“Are you forgetting you share a room with Benjamin? And Hunter doesn’t need to be inundated with questions.” He turned his attention to Tori. “We can put Paul in the boys’ room, and give that bedroom to Hunter.”
Hunter rose and shifted his weight onto his crutches. “No need to worry about shuffling anyone around. I can get a room at a boardinghouse.”
“Nonsense. You’re not going to any boardinghouse when your home is here.” Tori tapped her finger on her lips. “I know. We have that empty room at the back.” She looked at Hunter. “It’s for a live-in housekeeper, but we’ve always had someone who just comes in a few times a week. You can use that room.”
Feeling better about not causing too much disruption to the family, he nodded. He winced as he took a step forward, his injury still so new he forgot about it most times. Except like now when the pain shot up from where the bullets hit him, all the way to his hip.
“Do you have pain medication?” Always astute, Tori touched his arm.
“No. The doc offered me some, but I don’t want to get started on that stuff. I’ve seen too many otherwise smart men become dependent on it.” Including his close friend, Jeremy.
“I’ll send Paul into town. Michael has his own pharmacy. He can give you something for the pain that isn’t addictive. Probably not as powerful, but it will take the edge off.” Uncle
Jesse spoke over his shoulder as he led the parade to Hunter’s new room.
His uncle flung open the door and ushered him in. The room had obviously not been used for some time, if at all. Faded green and white wallpaper covered the top half of the room, with wainscoting on the bottom. A bed stood against one wall, with an old dresser across from it.
“I’m sorry about the state the room is in. We can re-decorate and get some new furniture in here.”
Hunter smiled at Tori. “Don’t worry about it. It’s the cleanest, nicest place I’ve slept in years. Since I’m not real sure what my next step is, I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”
“You’re family. Not trouble.” Tori’s eyes filled with tears and she gave him an awkward hug, the crutches in her way. “And I am so glad to see you. You have no idea.”
He had maybe a slight idea. His aunt and uncle had always been about family. Uncle Jesse’s start in life had been rough, born to a prostitute and raised in a brothel. Tori had lived most of her life as an only child with a cantankerous older aunt. After a rocky start together, these two heads of the family had created a warm, loving home for him and his brother and sisters. And soon filled the place with four children of their own.
“All right, everyone out now.” Jesse made a shooing motion to the four adolescents who continued to stare at Hunter as if he were some type of hero. “Give Hunter a chance to rest. Paul, take your bike down to Michael’s pharmacy and ask him for something for the pain.” He grabbed Paul by the shoulder as the boy turned to leave the room. “Oh, and tell him we will have the whole family here for dinner Sunday, so there’s no need for him to rush over to see his brother.” He winked at Hunter. “Believe me, son, the family has grown by leaps and bounds and they can be a lively bunch. You need to rest up before they descend upon you.”