Pemberley Ranch

by Jack Caldwell

  Charlotte froze.

  Looking from a second-floor window in Whitehead’s building was a young, blonde woman. Her face was painted and her clothes could only be described as indecent, but Charlotte recognized the girl beneath the harlot. A moment later, the woman turned from the window, responding to a voice within the room. Then a man’s arm drew the curtains closed.

  Charlotte blinked. A less self-assured person might have thought the sighting had never happened, but Miss Lucas was nothing if not confident. She looked about to see if her response was of note to anyone on the street. Assured of her safety, she quickly returned to her father’s office.

  “Charlotte, are you certain of this?” cried Sheriff Lucas.

  Charlotte rubbed her forehead, weary of the interrogation. “Yes, Paw. It was Lily Bennet. I know it! It was her!”

  “Maybe we oughta go and take a peek,” Deputy Smith offered helpfully. He blanched at the look his boss threw at him.

  “I’m still not convinced it was the Bennet girl,” Sheriff Lucas insisted. “Perhaps it was a trick of the light—”

  “Paw!” Charlotte cried. “I know what I saw! It was Lily Bennet looking out a window in George Whitehead’s building not thirty minutes ago. I know it as sure as I’m sitting here. Why do you insist I didn’t see what I saw? Are you afraid?”

  “Yes!” Lucas shouted as he leapt to his feet. “Yes, I am, and so should you be! Do you understand what’ll happen if I go stormin’ in there? Do you want Denny and his gang shootin’ up the town? Three lawmen against a dozen trained killers? There are more things to think about than one foolish girl!”

  Charlotte stared at the two men in shock. Her father was flushed while Smith would not meet her eye. “Paw—”

  Lucas cut her off. “No more, Charlotte. Not another word. I’ve said my piece. Now, get yourself back to the house. Smith, go walk her home.”

  “No, Paw. It’s not necessary. I can find my own way home. To be honest, I’d rather not suffer your company, or Smith’s, any more than I have to tonight.” Charlotte did not wait to hear her father’s response, as she was out the door the next instant. But she did not head towards their house at the edge of town. Instead, she made her way to the livery stable.

  As usual at Pemberley, the Darcys had their supper early and had their top hands join them. They were half-finished with their meal, and José was in the middle of an amusing story about a priest and a rabbi in a saloon, when Reynaldo approached the table.

  “Señor Darcy, there is a young woman here to see Señor Fitz.”

  Both men exchanged confused glances before Darcy told his butler to escort the lady in. The confusion was doubled as Charlotte was introduced.

  “Miss Lucas,” Darcy greeted her, “you are very welcome, but may I ask why you’re here—alone, I take it? Has something happened to your father?”

  The agitated girl shook her head. “No, no, he’s fine. Please excuse me, Miss Gaby, but I have to talk to Fitz right now!” She glanced at Darcy. “And, perhaps, you too, Mr. Will.”

  Darcy looked at Fitz. “Very well, shall we adjourn to my study?”

  “Charlotte, are you certain of this?” cried Fitz.

  “Of course, I am!” she returned with some heat. “Do you think I rode all this way in the evening to tell you tales?”

  William turned from staring out the window. “Miss Lucas, please calm yourself. We believe you. It’s just… so… fantastic.” He turned back to gaze outside. “All this time we’ve been looking for her and she’s been right under our noses.” He sighed.

  “This changes things, Will,” said Fitz. “What’re we going to do?”

  “What do you mean?” Charlotte cried. “Aren’t you going to help her? Are you scared of Whitehead, too?”

  Fitz tried to soothe her. “Charlotte, please, if Miss Lily went there of her own free will… well… what can we do?”

  “Tell her family,” said Darcy quietly. “They deserve to know. But,” he turned to face the room, “I want to make certain that Miss Lily did go there and wishes to stay there voluntarily. Miss Charlotte, you said she looked… how?”

  The girl thought. “Sad… frightened. She was scared of the man in the room.”

  Darcy nodded. “That’s good enough for me. I’m going into town. Fitz?”

  Fitz jumped to his feet, still holding Charlotte’s hand. “Of course I’m comin’! But I think we’re goin’ to need some help.”

  Darcy was already moving to his gun case. “Four men—no more. We leave in five minutes.” He belted on his Colt. “Whitehead and Denny are out of town. We ride light.”

  Darkness had fully fallen by the time the riders from Pemberley reached Rosings. Over the protests of Fitz, they made their way to the sheriff’s office rather than storming the Whitehead building. Dismounting, Darcy, Fitz, and Charlotte went inside.

  “Evening, Sheriff,” Darcy said, while Fitz only glared at his girl’s father.

  “Darcy,” Lucas returned before he spoke to Charlotte. “I thought I told you to go home—”

  Fitz interrupted him. “She was doin’ your job, Lucas!”

  The sheriff got to his feet while Deputy Smith watched uncomfortably. “You can’t speak to me like that in front of my daughter, Fitzwilliam! She ain’t your wife—yet—and never will be, if I have my say about it!”

  “Stop it, both of you!” cried Charlotte.

  “Miss Charlotte is right,” Darcy agreed. “We’ve got more important things to discuss than courtship.” The other two men were properly embarrassed. “I understand that Lily Bennet’s been seen in Whitehead’s place. My men and I are going over there to talk to her. What I want to know is if you’re going to join us.”

  Lucas looked Darcy dead in the eye. “You know what this means?”

  “I do.”

  “You gonna see this all the way through? You and all your men?”

  Darcy glanced at the floor. “I wasn’t ready before, but I am now.” He returned Lucas’s stare. “All the way. You either help or get out of the way. This is war.”

  Lucas sat back, considering. “Aw, hell.” He shook his head. “I guess I ain’t gonna live forever. Smith!”

  The deputy jumped. “Yessir!”

  “Go to the hotel and get Jones. Tell ’em I need him here. We’re payin’ a call on Mr. Whitehead.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Sheriff Lucas and Darcy approached the front door of the Whitehead building along with one of the Pemberley riders. Oil lamps on either side of the door lit the entrance. Lucas moved to knock on the door and said, “Last chance to back out, Darcy.” Darcy gestured at the door and Lucas pounded on the doorframe. “Hello in there! This is Sheriff Lucas! Open up!”

  There was some noise and voices. Lucas banged again, and a moment later, Sally Younge opened the door. “What can I do for you, Sheriff… Mr. Darcy!? What are you doing here?”

  “Sally, fancy seeing you here,” drawled Lucas. “Who’s minding the saloon?”

  Darcy was grim. “Younge, we’re here to see Miss Lily Bennet. Don’t bother lying; we know she’s here. Bring her to us immediately.”

  Her face losing all color, Younge barred the way. “I… I don’t know what you mean. Look, Mr. Whitehead ain’t here. You can’t come in—”

  Darcy brushed the woman aside and moved into the front hall, the others close behind. Younge was still squawking her protests when there was a loud crash from the rear of the building. Without hesitation, the three men ran towards the back door. In the alleyway between Whitehead’s and the saloon, they beheld a young blond woman in a dressing gown between Deputy Smith and Fitz, while two Pemberley riders had their guns drawn on one of Denny’s gang.

  Darcy’s face was thunderous. “Pyke—still doing Whitehead’s dirty work.”

  Pyke held his hands up. “I wasn’t doin’ nothin’! This here girl just wanted some air, is all. I didn’t know she was that missing girl—I swear!”

  “Strange, I don’t recall mentioning anything about a mi
ssing girl or Miss Lily,” Fitz snarled. “Should I just shoot him, boss?”

  Darcy shook his head as he approached Lily. As gently as he could, he asked, “Did this man harm you, Miss Lily?” Lily stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. “You’re safe now,” he continued. “I won’t let anyone harm you, all right?” Satisfied he had calmed Beth’s sister as best he could, he turned to Whitehead’s henchman. “Pyke, you’ve been a thorn in my side for far too long. I’ll give you this one final warning: Get out of Rosings. Trouble me or mine again and I’ll kill you myself. Do you hear me?”

  Pyke’s bravado faded as he could see only death in Darcy’s eyes. “All right, all right—I’m goin’. Let me inside just to get my things—”

  “You’ve lost that opportunity, Pyke.” Darcy was relentless. “Leave. Town. Now.” Pyke, realizing he was living on borrowed time, scampered from the alley. Darcy turned to Lily again, only to be intercepted by the sheriff.

  “Darcy—” he began.

  “No, Sheriff,” Darcy barked, “don’t start. Like I said—this is war. Don’t argue with me.”

  Lucas shrugged. “Just ask me next time, all right?”

  Darcy nodded. “Let’s get Miss Lily out of this night air.” He took her by the arm and brought her back inside. “Miss Lily, I mean to take you home. Let’s go and get your things,” he suggested, moving towards the stairs.

  She stopped cold, resisting going upstairs.

  “We can leave now, if you want,” Darcy offered.

  Lily looked into his eyes again. “You really mean to get me out of here?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re George’s enemy?”

  Darcy nodded slowly. “Does that make a difference?”

  Lily bit her lip, deciding. She abruptly took Darcy by the hand and began pulling him down a hallway. “You better come with me. I’ve got something to show you.”

  Darcy and the sheriff sat in Whitehead’s office, the safe open and a pile of papers spread before them. At that moment, he felt he could have kissed Lily.

  “Unbelievable,” Lucas muttered again as he perused the stack.

  Darcy read one sheet after another. “The missing piece. I knew there was more to this. Now it all makes sense.”

  Fitz walked in the door. “The girl’s finally gettin’ decent. What are you so happy about, Will?”

  Darcy grinned. “I finally know what Whitehead’s been up to,” and he explained what he and Lucas had found—money, papers, telegrams, letters, bank books, and most importantly, the deeds from the foreclosed homesteads. Fitz had to sit down, shaking his head.

  “Where did Whitehead get the money to pull this off?”

  Lucas passed him a sheet. “Can’t say for sure, but there’s this train schedule for a Federal payroll back in ’64.”

  Fitz took the paper. “You think Whitehead robbed a train?”

  Darcy shrugged. “Where else could he get over twenty thousand dollars? It doesn’t matter, anyway. Everything’s tied up in these deeds.” He waved at the table.

  Lucas thought. “When Mrs. Burroughs finds out about this, it could ruin Rosings Bank. Collins has been a slick bastard.”

  “It would serve her right,” Darcy said darkly. “She’s been in on this for months, thinking she’d sell to the railroad. She just didn’t know that Whitehead and Collins have been double dealing.” He tossed the papers on the desk. “This is partly my fault. If I had been minding business and watching what was going on in Rosings, none of this would’ve happened. Those poor settlers, the Washingtons… none of it. Damn!”

  Fitz changed the subject. “Was Whitehead stupid enough to leave his safe open?”

  Darcy smiled again. “Miss Lily’s smarter than you think. She watched Whitehead and learned the combination. She thought it might come in handy.”

  “Well, it surely did. So, now what?”

  Darcy looked at Lucas. “Whitehead and Denny are due back from Fort Worth tomorrow?”

  “That or the next day’s what I heard.”

  Fitz whistled. “When Whitehead sees all this, all hell’s gonna break loose.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.” Darcy spoke quietly to the other two. “First thing he’s going to do is go after Miss Lily. She knows too much. Then, he’s coming after me. So, this is what we do. I’ll take Miss Lily to the Bennet place and convince the women to hole up at Pemberley until this is over. Meanwhile, I’ll set a little ambush for Whitehead and Denny at the farm. They won’t be expecting anything like that from Bennet.”

  Fitz grinned. “I think I’m gonna like that.”

  Darcy shook his head. “No, you won’t, Fitz. Whitehead might do the unexpected, so I want you in charge of Pemberley’s defenses, just in case. You send a wagon with supplies and a few extra men to the Bennet place. We’ll use that to transport the women back to Pemberley. Send José. We’ll arrange the ambush.”

  “Can’t say that I like that idea, boss.”

  “I understand, but I’ll rest easy knowing that Gaby and the Bennet women are under your protection.”

  Lucas gestured at the papers. “I’ll take all this evidence over to the jail for safekeeping, telegraph for them soldier boys at Fort Richardson, and hole up ’til this blows over.”

  Fitz chuckled. “Never thought I’d be pleased to see the Yankee Cavalry.”

  Darcy looked the sheriff in the eye. “Will you be able to hold out, Lucas?”

  “Nobody knows I’ve got this stuff, and Whitehead don’t think much of me, so it won’t even cross his mind. Besides, the jail’s the strongest building in town. Me and my deputies will be okay.”

  Fitz grew troubled. “You can hole up at Pemberley.”

  Lucas waved him off. “No. I ain’t abandoning my town. I know I’ve made a lot o’ mistakes, but I ain’t no coward, dammit.” He glanced at Fitz. “No matter what some folks say.”

  Darcy and Fitz shared a look. “If you’re set about it, Lucas…”

  “I am.”

  Darcy slammed his hand down. “Then, that’s the plan. Let’s get moving. Fitz, you and the others help the sheriff. Haul all this paperwork over to the jail while I collect Miss Lily.”

  Darcy quietly made his way into the bedroom. He could see that Lily had changed her clothes but was still dressed in something more suited for a dancehall than a homecoming, sitting stone-faced on the bed, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

  “Pardon me, Miss Lily.” Darcy removed his hat. “I hope you’re ready to go home.”

  The girl looked away. “I thank you kindly for rescuing me, Mr. Darcy, but I can’t be going home. I’m… I’m—” She broke off.

  Gingerly, he sat in a chair near the bed, taking care not to come too close. Keeping his voice in a gentle tone, he said, “Now, Miss Lily, let’s have none of that. Your momma and poppa are worried sick over you.”

  “I can’t go back!” she cried, leaping to her feet, her face red and wild. “Don’t you see? I’m ruined! I’m dirty and unfit for decent people!” When Darcy tried to persuade her away from such thoughts, she rounded on him. “Should I tell you what happened to me? Do you want to know? I came here—by my own desire. I tricked my family and came here to offer all I had to George!”

  Her story spilled out, as if a dam broke. “I… I loved him, and I thought that if he knew it, he’d love me, too. He was so surprised! I thought, at first, he was going to send me away. But I made him think better of it. I begged him to make me a woman. And he did. It was glorious!” She threw her head back, her expression soft and glowing.

  “I was so happy. I had done what none of my sisters, save Jane, had done, and with such a man! So handsome! So dashing—or so I thought.” She changed again, her face becoming dark and foreboding. Her hands clutched her skirt so tightly that Darcy thought she might tear the fabric.

  “A week after I came here, just as I began to think that George and I should marry and surprise my family, my bedroom door opened. But it wasn’t George. It was Denny.”
She panted loudly. “He had this cruel gleam in his eye. I asked him his business, and he laughed! ‘You’re my business, girl. You’re mine now!’

  “‘You’d better not let George hear you say that,’ I told him, ‘or he’ll shoot you dead!’ He just laughed again and grabbed my arm. ‘You silly slut! I said you’re mine. He gave you to me. Your precious George gave you to me!’”

  Lily closed her eyes, pain etched on every corner of her face. “And then he took me. Threw me on the bed, ripped off my chemise, and took me! I fought and I fought and I yelled and I screamed, but no one came; nobody helped. George didn’t come; Sally didn’t come—nobody! In the end, Denny had his way with me.” She walked over to the window, hands clutched together, leaving Darcy to struggle to restrain his anger and horror in the silence. When she resumed talking, her back to her rescuer, it was with a voice that had lost all emotion.

  “When he had spent his filth in me, he stood up and did up his pants. ‘Not bad, lovey,’ he told me, ‘but you best be better next time, or you’ll be sorry. Remember this, my girl—you’ve no home left, except here. If I ever tire of you, you’ll be working for Sally, livin’ off your back, pleasurin’ cowhands and salesmen and such for four bits a toss. You’re dead to your family.’”

  Darcy thought he was going to be sick.

  “The next morning, I came down for breakfast, and there was George. He wouldn’t even look at me! I cried, ‘Why, George? Why did you throw me over? Why did you give me to Denny? I love you.’ Do you know what he said? He said, ‘You were a ripe toss, girl, but you’re in more proper hands, now. When I marry, it will be a lady with land like Miss Darcy or Miss Burroughs. Not some fluff from the farm.’”