by Merry Farmer
“How dare you?” she seethed when they were out of the center of attention.
Hector stepped far too close for Libby’s comfort. “I told you that you would regret rejecting me.”
“I had no intention of marrying you, Hector,” Libby whispered, glancing up and down the hall, begging no one would see them. “I told you no. I told you no.”
He clamped a hand around Libby’s wrist. Libby tried to back away from him, but slammed against the wall. Hector surged forward until his chest pressed into Libby’s and his mouth was less than an inch from hers.
“Your lips told me no,” he growled. “The rest of you told a different story.”
Guilt lashed Libby so hard that stroked from a whip wouldn’t have hurt so much. Her legs turned to jelly and her heart slammed against her ribs. “I said no,” she whispered with as much strength as she’d had then—which was to say none.
Bold as thunder, Hector closed a hand over Libby’s chest and squeezed. “You are mine, Libby Sims. Haven’t I always told you?”
“I don’t want you.” Terror began to form black spots at the edges of Libby’s vision.
“No?” Hector leaned close, whispering in her ear. “Are you as sure about that now as you were when we conceived a child?”
Libby squeezed her eyes shut, praying she would either die or disappear. “I don’t want you. I never did. I never will.”
Somehow she found the strength to push. Hector was as surprised at the burst of energy as she was, and stumbled back. That gave Libby just enough time to run.
She tore off up the hall and into the lobby. There were so many things she wanted to shout at Hector, so many accusations she wanted to throw. She wanted to beat him senseless for everything he’d made her feel, but in that moment, she had to run.
Halfway across the lobby, she ran headlong into a tall, male body.
“Goodness gracious,” Mr. Gunn called out, catching her.
Libby glanced up at him, panting hard. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Gunn.” She pivoted to check over her shoulder. Hector hadn’t emerged from the hallway.
Mr. Gunn followed the line of her vision with a frown. “Is everything all right?” he asked, still holding her, like he might pull her into a fatherly hug.
Libby could only manage a nod before breaking away from him and starting for the hotel door. “Everything’s fine. Thank you. I’m sorry.”
She didn’t wait to see what he thought of her. She kept running, out the door, down the porch steps, and along the street until she reached the junction with Main Street. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she had to get away from Hector and her horrible memories. Her stomach turned, and her chest stung where Hector had squeezed it. She wanted Mason, but he was headed back to Paradise Ranch when he left the hotel.
“Good heavens, is she following us?” The shrill voice of Vivian cut through Libby’s panic.
Libby froze in her flight, jerking her head back and forth to figure out where she was. On the boardwalk to her right, the sisters were chatting with a pair of women who looked to be in their thirties, each bouncing a baby on their hips. Or rather, all of the women were staring at her.
“See what I mean?” Melinda drawled.
The only saving grace was that the two women with babies didn’t look at all pleased to hear Vivian and Melinda’s gossip.
“Where does she buy her dresses anyhow?” Bebe snickered. “That one looks like it came out of a charity bin.”
“It’s a pretty dress,” one of the other women—one with flame-red hair and an Irish accent—said.
“Excuse me, ladies, we need to be on our way,” the other woman said. “Would you like to come with us?” she offered to Libby.
“Emma Meyers,” Vivian gasped. “I am shocked that you would offer to escort a woman of such dubious reputation.”
“Yes, she’s dubious to the core,” Bebe added with a sniff.
“In fact, anyone who associates with Libby Montrose will be in serious danger of having their reputation besmirched,” Melinda added in a voice loud enough for half the street to hear.
The woman Vivian had called Emma shook her head at them and stepped down from the boardwalk to approach Libby. “I’m Mrs. Emma Meyers. Dr. Dean Meyers is my husband. He’s one of the Indian agents for the territory, so he’s not home right now, but I’m sure Katie and I would like to invite you over for tea.”
The red-head stepped forward. “We would.” She held out her hand. “I’m Katie Murphy.”
“You’re putting your reputation at risk,” Vivian warned them. “That woman is no good.”
“You don’t know what she’s done,” Bebe added.
“I’ll tell you what she’s done,” Melinda said and opened her mouth.
“Melinda, hush,” Honoria interrupted. Her sisters turned to her with scowls. “I—I have a terrible headache. I don’t feel well at all. Please take me home.”
“She doesn’t look well,” Emma said, frowning.
“No, she doesn’t,” Katie added, worried.
“What is going on out here?”
The entire scene shifted as Bonnie swept down the stairs of the lurid pink building across the street. Libby was caught between wanting to run away from the understanding she’d seen in the woman’s eyes when they’d met only an hour ago and wanting to run to her.
“Oh, well, this isn’t a surprise at all,” Vivian said, jaw clenched, hatred in her eyes. “Of course, you would get involved in a discussion about this wh—inappropriate woman.”
Bonne sauntered forward, her smile as cold as steel. She narrowed her eyes at Vivian. When she reached Libby’s side, she took her hand.
“Vivian. Melinda. Bebe.” The sultry alto of her voice took on a menacing tone. “Your sister just told you she isn’t feeling well. Take her home.”
“We don’t take orders from you.” Melinda crossed her arms and hoisted her chin high.
“Well, we might if she marries Papa,” Bebe added.
“She will not marry Papa,” Vivian snapped.
“So you would prefer that he and I continue the understanding that we have?”
Libby blinked in shock as all four of the sisters turned various shades of red and purple. She had the feeling she’d stumbled across a drama that had been active for a while and had a long way to go before being solved.
Vivian grabbed her sisters’ wrists so hard and fast that Bebe yelped and Melinda gasped. “Come on. We’re going home.”
“Hmph.” Melinda sniffed at both Libby and Bonnie, then followed her sisters down the boardwalk in the direction of the livery.
Bonnie turned to Libby, Emma, and Katie with a wicked smirk. “Never thought I’d see the day when faking a smile for Rex Bonneville would actually serve a use.”
Katie snorted. Emma clapped a hand to her mouth. Libby was too busy catching up to everything that had just happened to know what to think. Bonnie shook her head and sighed, then slipped her arm into Libby’s as though they were old friends.
“Come on. I think you and I need to talk.”
Bonnie nodded to Katie and Emma, who must have felt they were leaving Libby in good hands. Libby was still shaking from her confrontation with Hector and with the Bonneville sisters, and so let herself be led up to the bright pink building and inside before she could question the kindness or its potential effect on her reputation.
Whatever Libby expected the inside of a house of ill-repute to look like, Bonnie’s place surprised her. It looked the same as any other fine, city house, only with more pink and lavender. A cheery fire blazed in a front parlor, where several young ladies lounged about, reading, playing cards, or in the case of one, listening to a middle-aged man tell her about his prospecting days. It was too cold for the girls to display all their wares, but enough was showing to advertise what was available.
“This way.” Bonnie walked Libby past the parlor door and down the hall to a much smaller, closed door. She turned the handle and pushed it open into an ent
irely different part of the house.
“Oh, hello.” The young lady who greeted Libby was dressed as conservatively as anyone else in town, with a shawl around her shoulders. “Are you new here?”
“Libby isn’t joining the house, Pearl.” Bonnie patted the girl’s shoulder as she and Libby passed and headed on to a small office.
Pearl turned and followed them. “It’s really not that bad,” she insisted. “Bonnie is like a mother to us, even though she’s not old enough to be my mama. And the men in Haskell are nice, for the most part. We get regular meals and doctor’s visits, Rev. Pickering gave us Bibles and ministers to us, and we’re free to leave any time, and—”
“Thank you, Pearl.” Bonnie laughed. “But as I said, Libby is not joining us. She married Mason Montrose yesterday.”
“Oh. Mason.” She smiled and sighed. “Mason is a perfect gentleman.” She paused, then said, “I’m just finishing up the book I’ve been reading, but I’ll be out here if you need me.” She disappeared around the corner.
By that point, Libby’s head was spinning so fast that she plunked down into the sofa Bonnie offered as her legs gave out. She shook her head, hardly able to believe the last half hour had happened, let alone the last three months.
Bonnie sank to the sofa next to her, resting a friendly hand on Libby’s shoulder. “Mason has never been one of our clients,” she counseled.
“No,” Libby answered, barely above a whisper. “It’s not that. I’ve lived almost exclusively around men for the past ten years. I know how they can be, what their vices are.” Which only meant she should have seen Hector’s advances coming. Yet another twist of blind foolishness to add to the weight of her guilt.
Hector. He’d cornered her at the hotel the same way he’d cornered her in Teddy’s house that night. If the hotel hadn’t been crowded, would she have succumbed again?
“I do belong here, in this house.” She let her shame burst out, doubling forward to hide her face in her hands. “I’m no different from these girls.”
Bonnie rubbed her back, as comforting as any mother. “No, you’re not.”
Surprise straightened Libby’s back. “I’m not?” Up until that point, everyone she’d told the truth had insisted she was innocent.
Bonnie sighed and continued to rub her back. “Every one of the women in my care is just as worthy of love and attention and peace as you are, sweetheart. Every one of them carries a burden of shame and tells a story of how they ended up here.”
The twisted ache in Libby’s heart seemed to grow heavier, but not with shame. No, for the first time, her heart thumped with compassion, seeing that she wasn’t alone.
“I noticed it out on the street, when your boys rammed into me,” Bonnie went on. “But I’d heard folks talking about you from the first day when you got off the train.”
“People are talking about me?” Libby winced.
“Folks always talk about newcomers. All newcomers.” She shifted, pulling her hand away and pivoting to face Libby more fully. “I was at brunch with Rex and his girls this morning. And Hector Sterling. I heard what he said about you.”
“So you know.” Libby dropped her head in shame, but for once, the burst of self-flagellation didn’t feel right. So she lifted her head again and met Bonnie’s eyes.
“As I said, every girl in my care has a story of how they got here,” Bonnie said. “I think you’d feel better if you told me yours.”
It was an invitation that took hold of her, making her fingers and toes tingle. Mason had asked the same sort of question, only he’d demanded to know as her husband. As much as she longed to tell him everything, something held her back. But with Bonnie, another woman, a woman who’d admitted to finding herself in a compromising position in life, Libby knew she could be free.
“Hector began to pursue me long before Teddy died,” she blurted out. Now that she could, she needed to spew out the story the same way she would if she’d taken poison. “He hinted several times in the past year that he wanted me to be unfaithful to Teddy, but I wouldn’t. Teddy was an important man in the logging camp, so he was able to shelter and protect me. But then he was killed while topping a tree.”
“Topping a tree?” Bonnie blinked.
Libby relaxed, using hand gestures to explain. “It’s when you climb high up into a tall tree to trim branches and lop the very top off before felling it. It’s a dangerous job. Men who top the trees are paid extra. That has to be why Teddy chose to take the job. He didn’t usually do topping, you see. But Teddy…Teddy was trying to save extra money so we could move away from the camp and back to Oregon City.”
“Was that because he knew Hector was pursuing you?”
Libby blinked. Her jaw dropped. “Maybe,” she whispered. She pressed a hand to her stomach. The thought had never crossed her mind before, but it seemed so obvious now. Teddy had gone up the tree because he was trying to protect her. She swallowed, feeling sick all over again.
“Teddy’s equipment failed and he fell from the tree. He was killed instantly,” she continued her story. “After that, things are a little blurry. I was devastated.”
“Of course.” Bonnie took her hands and rubbed them between hers.
“I stayed at the camp because at the time, they didn’t have anyone else to cook or do laundry. A few of the other loggers offered to marry me to keep me safe and provide for me. I said no, of course. But Hector…Hector saw this as a perfect opportunity. I told him no too, but he kept asking and asking. Every day.” She paused, slipping back into memory. “I said no.”
“But he didn’t listen.”
Libby shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “He came to the house after the boys had gone to bed one night to ask me, yet again, to marry him. I said no. He cornered me, then herded me into the bedroom. I knew what he had in mind, but I still said no. He told me I would change my mind when I knew what he could give me.”
Bonnie frowned, furious.
“Hector managed to pin me against the wall. I couldn’t get away. He started kissing me, started touching me. He…he kept reaching for my skirt, pulling it up so he could grab my leg.” Her voice cracked. “I kept asking him to stop, but he kept telling me I didn’t really want him to stop. He said if I really wanted to stop, I would hit him, kick him, push him away. I couldn’t.”
“No, you weren’t strong enough.” Bonnie squeezed her hands.
Tears spilled from Libby’s eyes. “No, I wasn’t, but not that way. He somehow took my bodice off, unhooked my corset. He started kissing where he shouldn’t, fondling my hip. I…I reacted.” She lowered her head, wiping tears away. “I didn’t want him, but…but I must have, because my body felt…” She shook her head.
“He took me to the bed and…and did what we did. I didn’t fight back. I made noises. It…it didn’t hurt, and he didn’t leave any bruises. If…if it’s a crime, it hurts, right?” She glanced up to Bonnie, pleading for an answer. “If you really mean no, your body doesn’t react. I…Hector must have been right. I must have wanted it on some level, because it was…easy. Even if I didn’t enjoy it.”
Bonnie let out a sharp, shaking breath. She took Libby’s face in both of her hands. “No, no, that’s not right. Your body was protecting you. What Hector did was a crime. You said no, and he didn’t stop. That’s a crime, no matter what happened next. Sweetheart, it wasn’t your fault.”
Every bit of the anxiety and fear and grief Libby had been holding onto for the past few weeks burst into bitter sobs. She didn’t fight against Bonnie’s declaration, didn’t argue or contradict her. In her heart, she knew Bonnie was right, had known all along, but she had needed someone to look her in the eyes and absolve her of all sin for so long that finally hearing those words—it was not your fault—wrecked her.
“Honey.” Bonnie drew Libby into her arms, clasping her tight and rocking to comfort her. And it was a comfort. Beyond comfort. Of all the people in Haskell, Bonnie Horner would know who was and wasn’t a fallen woman, and Li
bby wasn’t one.
Pearl peeked around the doorway a few seconds later, and when Bonnie nodded, the pretty, slip of a girl skittered to the sofa and sat so that she could put her arms around Libby too. Libby’s tears doubled. The young woman didn’t even know her, and here she was, putting her heart and soul into comforting her at her lowest moment. And yet, women like the Bonneville sisters turned up their noses at the likes of Pearl and Bonnie, and gave themselves airs.
“Thank you,” Libby whispered after a while. She shifted until she could sit on her own, reaching for one of Bonnie’s hands and one of Pearl’s. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“Yes, I do,” Pearl said, as serious as a tomb.
That only made Libby weep anew. Yes, she could see in Pearl’s eyes that she knew the shame Libby felt, all too well.
The three of them sat together in silence for a few more seconds before Bonnie said, “I’m under the impression that Mason has a plan to take care of Hector Sterling.”
Libby blinked wide. “He does?”
But of course he did. He was Mason. He’d accepted her as she was, knowing she was carrying another man’s child. He had vowed to keep her safe, and Mason was exactly the kind of man to follow through on that promise.
“What does he have planned?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” Bonnie shrugged. “But I offered to help.”
“Let me help too, please,” Pearl begged.
Libby glanced to her. “If you can, I’d be happy to have your help. But I don’t know what Mason’s plan is.”
“I’m sure whatever it is, he’ll let us all in on it as soon as he’s ready,” Bonnie said.
Libby sighed, in spite of the fact that her heart felt lighter than it had in ages. For the first time in so, so long, she didn’t feel alone. She had Mason watching out for her, but she had friends who understood her too.
“Whatever Mason’s plan is,” she said, “I will do whatever he needs me to. I refuse to let Hector Sterling take over another moment of my life.”
Chapter 9
Every hour that Hector remained in Haskell, unchallenged and smug, grated on Mason’s nerves. He fully intended to do something to bring the rat to justice for what he’d done to Libby. Libby had returned to the Hen House the night before with a tale about running into Hector at the hotel after he’d left. Mason was certain there was more to that encounter than Libby was letting on. The story she’d rushed to tell him as she prepared the simple meal that they ate together was more about how kind Bonnie and Pearl had been to her and how surprised she was that Emma Meyers and Katie Murphy had come to her defense against the Bonneville sisters.