by Vanessa Vale
“I broke his nose, and Kane escorted him off the ranch,” I told him, but that didn’t seem to appease him.
“She’s dealt with that kind of talk all her life. That’s why I sent her to school, hopefully to avoid it all.”
“We think Abigail heard it and fled. Here,” I added.
He shook his head. “If she didn’t come here, then where the fuck is she?” James wondered, pacing.
Where would she go? “Does she have close friends in town?” Gabe asked.
“No,” James replied. “She’s been gone too long for close bonds.”
“She might have friends in Butte,” Gabe countered. He rubbed his fingers over his beard. “Wait.”
James turned.
“Why was she going to Butte?”
Yes, I’d forgotten her original destination had been Butte. We’d turned away from the town to take her to Bridgewater to marry and hadn’t thought of it since.
“To meet her beau,” James said.
“There was no beau. It was a lie,” I told him.
His eyebrows winged up just before he stalked down the hallway to his office. When we heard the tinkling of glass, we followed. He was pouring himself a drink from a decanter.
“No beau. You married her. She’s gone. What the fuck is going on?”
We told him of her reasoning for making up a suitor.
“So she was heading to Butte to meet someone who doesn’t actually exist?” he wondered, tossing back the amber liquid.
I glanced at Gabe. “She made up a suitor as a reason to have to return to Butte. She told us about the man, or lack thereof. She admitted to the lie, but she must have kept the real issue a secret.”
He rolled his shoulders back as he caught on to my line of thinking.
“She needed to go to Butte no matter what,” I surmised. “For some reason important enough to lie about it. Keep it a secret from you, and both of us. She was willing to go by herself, even with us—if we hadn’t married her. And now she’s gone on her own.”
“This isn’t good,” James said, putting the empty glass down with a thud. “It can’t be anything good for her to be so secretive. We’re going to Butte to find her.”
I wasn’t going to argue with the man. While it was our job to protect our wife, she was still his sister. We had no idea what Abigail was involved in. Having him along could only help. Unless he killed us first. He was strong enough to use a shovel now.
***
Abigail
The same henchman who’d escorted me to Mr. Grimsby last week opened the door to the house. Walking up the steps to the porch was one of the hardest things I’d had to do. I knew what I would be facing, unlike last time. I couldn’t even be sure Tennessee was still alive. I had no one to protect me. No one even knew where I was.
I had not changed my mind about leaving Gabe and Tucker, but I wouldn’t have minded them standing right behind me now. The henchman was similar in size to my two husbands, and he wouldn’t seem quite so… ominous if they were here.
But, no.
I was in this alone, as I would be for the rest of my life.
The man stepped back and let me enter. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath when I heard the door snick closed behind me. I was led back to the same room as the week before. Mr. Grimsby was behind his desk and stood upon my entry.
“Miss Carr.”
I wasn’t going to tell him that was no longer my name, but Abigail Landry now. If he discovered I was married to Bridgewater men, he would go after their money as well. While we hadn’t spoken of such things, I knew Tucker and Gabe were well-off. I didn’t want much, just love. I’d trade all their money, even Bridgewater, for the two of them to love me just as I was.
“I hope you have not come empty-handed.” His gaze raked over me.
“Where is Miss Bennett?” I asked.
The corner of Mr. Grimsby’s mouth turned up. “Upstairs.”
“I wish to see she is well before we conduct this matter.”
He arched a brow and smiled. “You have the head of a businessman.”
Mr. Grimsby lazily waved his hand at his henchman, and he disappeared down the hall.
“I am here for Miss Bennettt. If she is… dead”—I swallowed at the possibility of her demise—“as is her father, then there is no need to bargain with you.”
He rose from his chair, buttoned his suit jacket. “That is where you are wrong. Your friend has no impact on your livelihood. Only after your delivery of money will you be set free.”
While I wished to step back, even turn and bolt down the hall and out the front door, I refused to cow to this man. “That was not the arrangement,” I countered.
Footsteps came down the stairs.
“Your job was to bring me money. Did you think I would allow you to fail?”
Tennessee came into the room then. While she was well-dressed and seemed completely unharmed, dark circles marred her pretty face. Frown lines formed at the corners of her mouth. Even so, I was thrilled to see her. Alive.
“Abigail!” she cried, running into my arms. She shook like a leaf as I hugged her to me. “Please say you’ve brought what he wants,” she whispered.
She stepped back and eyed me with a dangerous level of hope.
I opened the reticule dangling from my wrist and pulled out my mother’s brooch. Stepping forward, I placed it on the desk where Mr. Grimsby greedily picked it up. Taking a moment, he studied it. “Very nice.”
I sighed, relieved. “Come, Tennessee. Let us leave.”
With my chin high, I held out my hand for my friend to take. I turned toward the door.
“Very nice,” Mr. Grimsby repeated. “But not enough.”
My stomach plummeted, and Tennessee gripped my hand like a vise.
Slowly, I turned to face Mr. Grimsby.
“This brooch is worth a hundred dollars, not much more. I need more!” he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.
“Why?” I asked, looking around the opulent room. “You have a beautiful house, clothing, a mine.”
“The mine has run dry.”
“So I am to personally pay for your lavish lifestyle in exchange for my health?”
He grinned. “Exactly.”
“Marry some rich heiress. While Miss Bennett deceived you, there are other women here in Butte with more money than God. It’s the richest town on earth!”
The mines surrounding the city were heavily laden with copper. So much so there was more money here than in New York or anywhere else. If he wanted to land a rich bride, he was in the right place.
“It’s not as easy as it seems,” he replied.
I sniffed. “Perhaps if you weren’t such a brute, women might actually find you charming.”
He didn’t seem bothered by my sharp retort. “Perhaps I will marry you. I can tolerate your damaged face in exchange for your money.”
It was then I realized I’d taken the wrong tack. Tennessee painfully gripped my hand. I wasn’t sure if it was out of fear or because she wanted me to stop talking.
There was no good conclusion to this confrontation, not for me, at least.
“Let Miss Bennett go. She’s just a pawn. You want money from me. She is not the collateral you need.” I tilted my head and whispered to my friend. “Go. Start walking and don’t come back.”
Her sweaty hold disappeared, and she slowly walked away. Mr. Grimsby didn’t stop her, nor did his henchman. They knew my statement was correct. She had no value to him. I heard her quick steps as she neared the door, then it opened and slammed shut in her haste to get away.
“Now, then. I believe marrying you is a good idea after all.” Mr. Grimsby looked over my shoulder toward the henchman. “Go collect a priest. Any one will do.”
A priest? I wasn’t marrying him. Not only was I already married, but I felt sick at the idea of being his wife. What I had shared with Tucker and Gabe had been… special. I couldn’t imagine doing those things with Mr. Grimsby. The idea of see
ing him naked, forcing me to my knees to take his cock in my mouth made me gag.
When I heard the door close once again, I pulled the gun from my reticule. There was no way I was going to let him proceed. While my hand was steady as I aimed at him, my nerves were frayed. I’d found the weapon in the Landrys’ kitchen. I didn’t know which brother it belonged to, but it was loaded and hopefully enough to deter Mr. Grimsby. At least enough to escape his house.
“I’ll be leaving now, and you will leave me alone. The brooch will be all the payment you receive from me.” I retreated, only glancing to the side so I didn’t bump into anything.
Mr. Grimsby stepped toward me, eyes narrowed and angry. As he lunged toward me, I fired, shooting just over his right shoulder. “That was a warning.”
He put his hands up and stayed still, clearly surprised I wasn’t afraid to use the gun.
I heard the front door open, but I was afraid to look behind me, to take my eyes off the man who could surely disarm me. But I couldn’t give the henchman behind me the chance to grab the weapon so I spun on my heels and ran for the door, toward my only escape. I didn’t even make it a step before I bumped into a hard body, strong hands gripping my arms. Holding me still.
I struggled and shouted, fought him, but it was no use. I couldn’t defend myself against someone so powerful.
“No!”
I had lost..
CHAPTER NINE
Tucker
Seeing Abigail with a smoking gun back away from the bastard with a smoking gun—one I instantly recognized as my own—in her hands had my anger grow to the point where I could barely see straight. Gabe and James were right behind me, but I couldn’t do anything but grab hold of Abigail. I usually went after the danger and eliminated it, but not this time. Yes, I wanted to take the weapon out of her hand and just shoot the bastard, but I needed to ensure her safety. Gabe could have his turn with vengeance.
But instead of wrapping her arms about me and holding on for dear life, Abigail fought me, pummeling my chest with her hands, pushing and struggling to get away. When she waved the gun in my face as she fought, I realized she didn’t know who I was. She thought I was the man who’d walked out of the house as we were going up the walk. While he was big, he wasn’t any match for the three of us.
My heart ached knowing she was fighting for her life, that she thought a man was holding her to hurt her. Her strength and energy was impressive, but it only showed her desperation. What had this man done? She appeared unharmed, but I knew damage could be inflicted in ways not discernible. If she had been harmed, then I’d fucking shoot the man, even if he was already dead.
When the hard metal hit my chin, I took hold of her wrist, forcing the gun to point away from both of us. Christ, she was going to shoot one of us by accident in her haze of fear.
“Abigail.” I bit her name out in a harsh growl.
“Enough.”
“No! Leave me alone.” She continued to fight, but I would not relent on my hold. I never would again.
“It’s Tucker. Stop.”
All at once, her fighting ceased. I stripped the gun from her, tossed it behind me without even looking, knowing James was there to catch it, then cupped her face in my hands.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes met mine, wild and searching. It took her a few seconds to focus on me, for her racing mind to catch up to what was before her.
“That’s it, precious. You’re safe now.”
I saw the moment she saw me. “Tucker? Oh God, Tucker,” she sighed, wrapping her arms about me in a hug so tight I let out an oomph.
Pressing her face against my chest, I lowered my head and just breathed her in. I nuzzled the top of her head, her hair tickled my mouth as I kissed it.
Gabe and the man were arguing. James stalked past me and into the office. I could see them, but I ignored it all.
All but Abigail.
I sighed, letting all the anger, all the fear, everything seep out of me as I held her close. She was warm, and although she still shook with excess energy, she was alive.
“Come,” I said, putting my arm about her waist and leading her out into the sunshine.
While she didn’t resist me, she spoke up. “But—”
“Gabe and your brother will take care of him.”
I didn’t offer more, didn’t offer that they’d probably kill him for whatever the fuck it was he did to her. While we’d been able to track her to the man’s house, we didn’t know why she was there exactly.
We stood out on the sidewalk as the Butte police came, guided by a hysterical woman who pointed to the open front door. I didn’t let Abigail go, didn’t speak, just held her as the world went by around us. Time stood still. Nothing mattered but that I’d gotten to her, had saved her.
Gabe came toward us, eventually, every line of his body rigid. When he stood directly before me, he nodded once, indicating the problem was resolved. How, I didn’t ask. I didn’t care, but I knew my brother had ensured Abigail’s safety.
“Go to Gabe, precious. He needs you.”
I turned her around, and she stepped into Gabe’s arms. She cried then, sobbing on the sidewalk as my brother held her. Wiping a hand over my face, I exhaled.
James, escorting the harried woman who’d brought the police, joined us.
“Abigail,” the woman pleaded, dashing over and taking her hand. She was even smaller than our wife, with pale hair and large blue eyes. If she wasn’t so pale and gaunt, she would be considered beautiful. “I’m so sorry.”
She squeezed Abigail's hand. “I didn’t mean to pull you into this, to put you in danger with Mr. Grimsby. It was just a simple lie.”
I frowned. She’d caused all this? Caused Abigail to be afraid of the bastard enough to wave a gun, shoot it even, to defend herself? I wanted to know why she was even in that house, but it would have to wait.
“It seems there’s a fair amount of lying these days,” Gabe admonished. Both women’s cheeks turned pink.
“Where will you go, Tennessee?” Abigail murmured. She stepped back from Gabe, but he kept one arm about her waist.
Tennessee? Was that her name or her destination?
The woman looked at the ground. “I… I don’t know, but you’ve done enough for me.” Lifting her head, she offered Abigail a brittle smile. “I’ll be fine. And I will avoid dangerous men, I promise. I have learned my lesson.”
“Good,” James said. “Because you’re coming home with me.”
The woman’s mouth fell open as she slowly shook her head. “I can’t. I don’t even know you.”
“Abigail,” James said.
Abigail sniffed then lifted her hand. “Miss Tennessee Bennett, this is my brother, James Carr.”
James rolled his shoulders back. With the introductions out of the way, he said, “Miss Bennett, you have no place to go? No family?”
She shook her head.
“Money?”
She looked away, not responding.
“How will you live? Go to The Briar Rose and earn your keep on your back?”
Miss Bennett blanched, swallowed. “If… if I must.”
I couldn’t miss hearing the growl rumbling from James’ chest. “You will come home with me,” he repeated. Good, because neither Gabe nor I would let her seek employment at a brothel.
Miss Bennett couldn’t argue with James on this. If she truly was destitute, she had no other option.
Before the woman could argue further, Gabe said, “We’re going home.”
At his words, Abigail flinched, then she stepped away from Gabe’s arm as if it were a serpent about her waist. She shook her head. “No. I’m not going with you.”
“Yes, you are,” Gabe bit out. “I came to save my wife from a madman and take her home.”
“Wife?” Abigail laughed then sniffed. “It’ll be much easier for you not to look at me when I’m not around.” Bitterness and anger laced every word.
“Look at you?” Gabe countered. “We
’re probably the first people who’ve actually seen you, Abigail.”
“What the hell is she talking about?” James asked.
I’d never seen Abigail so upset. This wasn’t a crying jag to bleed off the excess energy from her brush with danger. This was all-out anger. This was something different. Like most women, and perhaps all who’d graduated from a fancy finishing school, she’d had been taught to hide her emotions. But she must have failed deportment because she was letting her ire show. At us. Abigail was furious with me and Gabe.
“Let’s get off the street and talk about this. At home,” I said.
She took a step back when I moved toward her to take her arm.
“And you call me a liar,” she hissed. “You took me from behind so you couldn’t see my face. It’s just as I’d thought, and you lied.”
Before I could lift my hands, James had closed the distance between us and punched me in the face.
“Shit,” I muttered, covering my jaw with my fingers. I wiped blood from the corner of my mouth. The man could hit.
“You said you waited for her, had wanted her for years. This is how you treat her, how you… you claim her?”
It was a good thing we were on a quiet residential street, for we would have drawn quite the crowd. It was also good the police were still inside the house. Someone was going to end up in jail if we kept this up.
Abigail spun on her brother, pointed her finger in his chest. “You didn’t want me either.”
“What?” he shouted, looking angry and surprised at the same time. “What are you talking about?”
“You put me in school because of my scar. Hid me away so people couldn’t see me. I know what people say. Even Mr. Grimsby thought I was hideous.”
If this Grimsby was the asshole inside, then thank fuck for that, I thought, then wanted to stomp right on into the bastard’s house and beat the shit out of him.
“But, you.” She poked James again. “You’re the worst. You’re my brother and you… and you—”
Tears streamed down her face and she swallowed hard, trying to talk past her tears.
“—sent me off so you didn’t have to see me anymore.”