Desperate Hearts

by Rosanne Bittner

  Emma traced her fingers along a vein in his arm. “I’ll never ask you to go against whatever you really want to do, Mitch. I know it’s kind of in your blood, and heaven knows you’re good at what you do. What you do has to be your choice, Mitch.”

  He stretched. “We might end up moving to Virginia City. We have a lot of friends here, but gold towns can become ghost towns overnight once the gold runs out and the inhabitants move on to the next discovery.”

  Emma leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Well, wherever we end up and whatever we do, my offer still stands. If you want to go into your own business or build a ranch and buy cattle and horses and such, I can sell the necklace.”

  “No,” he answered emphatically. “It’s yours to hand down to a daughter of your own, or to keep for a true emergency if something did happen to me. I have some money saved, and you can still teach. We’ll manage just fine. Some day you will have a bigger house and some of the finer things a woman wants and needs, and it will be because of me, not because of that necklace.”

  “Well, I mean it, Mitch. I know in my heart you didn’t marry me for anything I own, and so selling it is fine with me if we ever need to.” She kissed him again. “You still have never seen the necklace. Do you want me to show it to you?”

  He grinned. “You’re dying to, so go ahead. I really don’t care one way or the other.”

  Emma crawled out of bed, commanding that he not look at her while she quickly washed. Mitch had to laugh at the fact that he’d seen and touched and tasted every inch of her, but she didn’t want him to see her up naked and washing herself. He turned away and took a cheroot from a little stand on his side of the bed. He scooted up and removed the chimney from a nearby oil lamp, lighting the cheroot from its flame. He replaced the chimney and put a pillow behind him, relaxing against the headboard of the bed, smoking quietly while Emma pulled on a robe and went to her trunk in the corner.

  “That’s where you keep a valuable necklace?” he asked.

  “I had no place else to hide it. The day of the robbery I had it inside my camisole. I was so scared those men would rip my clothes off and find it.”

  Mitch chuckled. “I would think you’d be more afraid of what they would have done with you once they got your clothes off,” he teased.

  “Well, that, too.”

  Mitch laughed harder, enjoying the look of her after lovemaking, her hair a mess, her beautiful skin natural, no paint, nothing fake or false about her. She wrapped something into her robe and came back to the bed, moving up against the headboard to sit beside him. She took the necklace from under her robe and held it up. “This is it,” she told him.

  Mitch took the cheroot from his lips, gawking at a spectacular necklace. “Jesus,” he muttered, losing his smile. He stared at the delicate, lacy-looking cascade of gold embedded with more jewels than he’d ever seen in his life—more jewels than pretty much any human being had ever seen. “For God’s sake, Emma, that thing should be in a bank safe in Virginia City! Maybe it should even be in a vault in some bigger city that has more law and order. It must be worth thousands!”

  “I’m sure it is. It’s pure gold, and all the jewels are real—sapphires, rubies, diamonds, garnets, pearls, emeralds, amethyst. Besides the value of the jewels themselves, the fact that it belonged to a member of the royal family makes it even more valuable.” She handed it out to him, but Mitch put out his hand defensively.

  “No thanks! I’m not sure I even want to touch it.” He frowned. “No wonder Alan Radcliffe kept trying to get his hands on that thing. If he was losing money like you say he was, that necklace could have kept him going for a long time.”

  The mention of Alan brought a quick pain to Emma’s chest. She lost her smile. “I’d almost forgotten about Alan,” she told Mitch, staring at the necklace.

  Mitch laid the cheroot in an ashtray on the nightstand. “We’ll figure out what to do about Alan Radcliffe,” he told her. “I’ll see if I can find a way to learn if he’s actually put out a warrant for you back in New York. Hal Wallace and David Meeks can maybe find the right person to send a telegram to.”

  Emma clutched the necklace. “But if you do that, they’ll know I’m here. They’ll come after me!”

  “In Montana? There isn’t a man alive, including the president himself, who’d come out here and go up against the vigilantes. No one is going to lay a hand on you, Emma. I don’t want you to worry about it.” He leaned closer and kissed her lightly, finally taking the necklace from her. “Turn around. I didn’t want to touch this thing, but I can’t resist seeing how it looks on a naked descendant of the royal family.”

  Emma laughed lightly, turning her back to him. “Mitch, my family is not descended from the royal family.”

  Mitch clasped the necklace around her neck. “I don’t care. I now pronounce you queen of England,” he teased.

  Emma turned, and Mitch shook his head. “My God, you’re beautiful! What the hell is a woman who grew up in a mansion and led a pampered and spoiled life and who went to finishing school and is the most beautiful creature on earth and the heiress of a necklace worth thousands doing married to a man like me?”

  Emma ran a hand through his thick hair, carefully avoiding the still-healing wound that had nearly taken him from her for good. “She’s married to you because there isn’t a man anywhere, no matter how rich and sophisticated and educated, who can hold a candle to my rugged, handsome, brave, able lawman, or who could possibly make a woman feel the way you make me feel.”

  He frowned. “Even though I’m a worthless, no-good, murdering vigilante?”

  Emma grinned. “Even that.”

  He touched the necklace again, studying it more closely. “We do have to decide what to do with this thing,” he added. “Something this valuable shouldn’t be lying around in a trunk in a one-room cabin in a lawless town full of gold-hungry men. We’ll take it to Virginia City with us and find a safer place for it. And you need to draw up a will or something that says if something happens to you, the necklace goes to your children, if you have any. Or you can designate it goes to a museum or something.”

  “Not to you?”

  “No, ma’am. That necklace is made for better things than the saddlebags of a drunken saddle bum, which is what I would be if anything ever happened to you. Life wouldn’t be worth living, rich or poor, without you in it.”

  She touched his face. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

  He kissed her hand. “I really mean it.”

  “And there is your answer as to why this woman of royal blood who grew up in a mansion and led a pampered and spoiled life married a man like you. You are a good and unselfish man.”

  “I’m not so sure about the good part.” He grinned, moving a hand inside her robe to gently fondle her breast. “Tell me something if you can.” He pushed the robe off her shoulders, exposing her breasts.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  He leaned close and kissed her. “If your grandmother’s husband was so angry with her for her affair, and if he banished her like you say he did”—he moved his lips to her neck—“why on earth would he have given her such a valuable necklace? He took everything else from her. Why not that?”

  “Well, the answer is kind of embarrassing.”

  He stopped his kisses, meeting her gaze. “Tell me.”

  Emma scooted down, grinning as he moved on top of her. “According to what my grandmother told my mother, her husband, who like I said was actually her cousin…” She hesitated. “It’s hard for me to say this.”

  “Oh?” He leaned down and kissed her throat.

  “Yes. I mean…well, my mother told me that according to my grandmother he…he preferred men. He never even once made love to my grandmother.”

  “Preferred men?” He shook his head. “Not that I haven’t heard of such things, but what’s that got to do with the
necklace?”

  “According to what my grandmother told my mother, it was a payoff. He told her she could have one valuable thing to help her provide for herself and her baby if she never told anyone he’d never shared her bed. In return, he’d let her out of the marriage because she was so unhappy.”

  Mitch kissed her breasts, then moved between her legs again. “Well, I can assure you, Mrs. Brady, that this man definitely prefers women.” He relished the feel of her as he invaded her yet again, unable to understand how any man wouldn’t want what he had right now in his arms…in his bed…in his life.

  He made love to her yet again, thinking how the necklace sparkled, even in the dim light of an oil lamp. He didn’t want to tell her, but it worried him now that he’d seen what a treasure it was. It reminded him that he had to find a way to settle the problem of Alan Radcliffe so Emma could finally have total peace of mind.

  Thirty-one

  Emma finished dressing and put just a little color on her cheeks. She pinned up the sides of her hair and left it long in back because Mitch liked it that way. She studied herself in a mirror that hung on the wall between the bed and the dresser. It was something Mitch had bought for her “because the most beautiful woman in town should have a mirror for dressing and pampering herself.”

  She smiled at the memory. She wasn’t so sure she was “the most beautiful woman in town,” but if he thought so, that was fine with her. Once she was with child and grew a big belly, he might change his mind, but he’d already told her she would be even more beautiful then. She wore a green ruffled dress Sarah had made for her, and she studied the tailored waistline. So far she still had a small waist. She tried to imagine what it would be like to be big with child and how happy she’d be to start a family for Mitch, to give him the home life he’d never known. She hoped that wouldn’t be much longer, and she wondered if Sarah had ever made a dress with an overblouse that would hide a pregnant belly. It would be a little embarrassing going out in public that way, but she would also be proud it was Mitch’s baby she was carrying.

  Mitch had taken a change of clothes and left a half hour ago to visit Lee Wong’s bathhouse and get a shave and haircut, leaving Randy outside to keep an eye on the house. Emma shook her head at the fact that he still thought she should be watched. The whole town had become their friends and Emma no longer feared any man in Alder. They all knew she was Mitch Brady’s wife, and that was good enough to ensure her safety. Mitch argued that plenty of newcomers came and went daily in and out of Alder, which was reason enough to still be careful.

  He would be back soon, and their bags were packed. They were going to Virginia City by stage today, which meant spending the night there before coming back to Alder. Emma looked forward to the trip. She wouldn’t have to be afraid of an attack with Mitch Brady right by her side. They intended to pick up needed personal items, and some of the tools Mitch would need to start working as a gunsmith, at least in his spare time for now. He wanted to try it out and stay in town, continuing his work as a sheriff but stopping his work as a vigilante. He no longer intended to spend weeks at a time away from home. He wanted to be right here in Alder for her.

  Life would be good. They would purchase books and tablets and other supplies for her teaching, and Mitch wanted to see about a safer place to keep her necklace, which was tucked away in her carpetbag for the trip. They would even see a lawyer about the will Mitch wanted her to have drawn up. He refused to use Carl Jackson, because he didn’t trust the man and didn’t want him to know about the necklace. In fact, he’d told no one in Alder about it, not even Randy or any of his men.

  She made ready to pin on a hat when someone tapped on the door. She unbolted it to see Randy standing there. He tipped his hat.

  “Ma’am, there’s some kind of ruckus going on at the saloon across the street and down a ways. I can hear shouting and arguing. Len and Benny are out on the trail, and Mitch isn’t back yet. I’m going over to see what the problem is, so just keep your door bolted till Mitch comes back.”

  “That’s fine, Randy.”

  “Do like I say and stay inside. You know Mitch. To him you’re like a flower—blow a little wind on it and the petals come off. He’s the most god-awful protective man I ever knew.”

  Emma laughed. “Go on, Randy. There isn’t a person left in Alder I need to worry about. Mitch needs to start understanding that.”

  “If you say so.”

  Emma watched him walk across the street, then closed and bolted the door. She finished pinning on her hat, then heard another knock at the door. Sure it was either Randy or Mitch, she opened the door again, then gasped in horror when Alan Radcliffe quickly and viciously shoved the door wider, knocking her down. He closed and re-bolted the door as Emma scrambled to her feet, standing there speechless with astonishment.

  “You never thought I’d find you, did you, you little bitch!”

  Emma made for a rifle Mitch kept in a rack on the opposite wall, but Radcliffe grasped her hair and yanked, clamping a big hand over her mouth so she couldn’t scream. “That two-bit, gun-toting kid who was outside fell for the little ruckus I paid a man to start, so he’s not around to protect you, you little whore! Neither is that excuse of a lawman you’ve been sharing your bed with! It’s just you and me, my sweet!”

  He bent one arm up behind her back, keeping her mouth covered. “When you ran off, you shouldn’t have left behind that newspaper article giving away your destination,” he growled.

  The article! Emma remembered losing it. She’d been in such a hurry, she forgot to bring the newspaper with her! Alan bent her arm more, reawakening the pain in her still-tender shoulder.

  “Where is it, Emma! Where’s the goddamn necklace! That’s all I want! Give me the necklace and I’ll leave you to your stinking little excuse of a house and your cowboy husband!”

  How did he know about Mitch and where they lived? And how did he know Mitch wasn’t here? Alan whirled her around and backhanded her before she could cry out. She landed against the table, and she tasted blood as he jerked her up and dragged her to the bed, pushing her onto it and holding her arms down. He pressed a knee into her stomach so she could barely breathe.

  “You stupid little slut!” he growled, his dark eyes blazing. “If you had willingly come to my bed and let me have the necklace, you’d be living the life of a wealthy woman right now! I wouldn’t have gone to the prosecutor and told him you killed your own mother and stole from me! But things have changed, Emma, and I need that necklace!”

  She shook her head and spit at him. “The…vigilantes…will hang you…for this!”

  Alan pressed his knee harder. “Give me the necklace or I’ll snap every rib in your body! I’m headed for California! Give me the necklace and I’ll go and you’ll never see me again!”

  Emma cried out with pain, but it was more of a squeal because she could barely take a breath. “Why…California?” she managed to grunt.

  “I’ve lost everything, thanks to you, you little thief! If I had that necklace, I could have saved my home and what was left of my businesses! You and that damn stubborn bitch of a mother of yours ruined my life!”

  Emma gritted her teeth. “Gambling…did…that.”

  Alan pressed again and Emma heard a crack and nearly fainted from the pain. “Where is it!” he demanded.

  His eyes were wild. He looked truly desperate, and Emma wondered what had gone wrong back home. This seemed to be something worse than just losing money to gambling debts. It was as though he was running from something. One thing was certain, he really meant business this time, and she didn’t want to die. The necklace wasn’t worth that. The stubborn part of her said to keep defying him, but the part of her that wanted to live for Mitch made her talk. “Carpet…bag…” She moved her eyes to where her packed bag sat on the floor.

  Alan glanced at it, then eased off, but he backhanded the other side of her face to
stun her into silence before going over to the bag. He tore it open and flung everything out of it, then tore at the lining to find the necklace.

  All the while Emma struggled to get up, but the pain in her left side was excruciating. Her handbag lay nearby on the bed. She tried reaching for it while Alan shoved the necklace into an inside pocket of his fancy waistcoat. He turned back then, noticing her trying to get up.

  Furious with her for all he imagined she’d done to him, he came back to the bed and wrapped his big hands around her throat, pushing her onto her back again.

  “I said I’d leave when I got the necklace,” he told her, “but I didn’t say I’d leave without killing you! I wouldn’t want you telling people who did this, now, would I?” He began squeezing, and Emma’s eyes grew wide with terror as he choked off her air.

  Randy! Mitch! She managed to get hold of her drawstring handbag and reached inside it. How she was able to keep from passing out, she wasn’t sure, just as she wasn’t sure how she managed to find her little derringer and cock it. She put it against Alan’s side and pulled the trigger.

  Alan jerked, his eyes wide with shock. He let go of her and straightened, looking down at himself, then reached under his waistcoat and felt his side. When he pulled his hand out, it was covered with blood. He gawked at her then, astounded, noticing the small handgun still in her left hand.

  “You fucking little bitch!” he exclaimed. “You shot me!”

  She still couldn’t get her breath and was sure he’d crushed something in her throat so that she’d never breathe again. Alan backed away as she tried to point her gun at him again, but she’d lost too much oxygen to have any strength left. The last thing she saw before passing out was Alan Radcliffe turning and going out the door.