“Why didn't you tell me any of this before?” Bethany arched a brow. “I don't know if I will believe any of it without proof. Surely there are better doctors and treatments available for her back east than here.”
“We didn't come here to find a cure. We came here so she can breathe cleaner air and perhaps extend her last days. We moved so she could die here.”
Bethany pushed away any compassion. It was what he hoped for.
“Mother acts as if she doesn't have a care in the world.”
“She refuses to believe the serious nature of her illness. Claims to feel well, just a bit tired. Your mother chooses to believe all the appointments and doctor visits are my way of coddling her.”
“So, you have no money?”
“Once I purchase a house, we can live in it for a few months. But after that I won't have a cent. I was hoping to use a part of your money for the purchase and live off income from the mercantile.” Her father stood, his reddened eyes met hers. “I'm sorry, Bethany. You'll not understand the lengths someone will go through for a true love until you yourself experience it.”
“It does not justify your attempt to steal from me.”
“No, it does not.” He hesitated in front of her. “If you decide to leave, keep the money for yourself, I just ask that you don't leave until we find a way to assure your mother will understand. Please don't do anything to upset her.”
Bethany let out a breath. “Very well.”
Chapter Twelve
Mitch looked up when the front door opened. The couple that entered waved at him and he returned the gesture. He kept hoping Bethany would come to him and accept his offer of the small place behind the store.
It was foolish, of course. She could more than afford to remain in the hotel. From what she'd told him, she was a rich woman now. “Hello, Mitch.” The sheriff's wife neared the counter. “Did you accept the Joneses offer on your house?” She bit her lip. “I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn by telling Mrs. Jones you might be interested. In her condition, I knew it would be hard to wait to build.”
“Condition?” Mitch waved Charley over to help a customer and he led Mrs. Dawson away from the counter. “I turned down their offer.”
“Oh, that's sad. I'm sure they didn't tell you that Mrs. Jones is near death. Her weak heart is failing.”
“Is that what she told you?” Mitch could not believe the lengths the Joneses went to in their charade. “She may have exaggerated.”
Mrs. Dawson did not look convinced. “She told me Doctor Dougherty confirmed it. He couldn't believe she survived the travel here. The poor woman. Bethany, the daughter, doesn't know. Mrs. Jones hides her lack of energy from both Bethany and Mr. Jones.”
Mrs. Dawson looked past his shoulder and waved. “Here's Bethany now. You should reconsider, Mitch.” She walked to Bethany and gave her a tight hug. “I was just speaking about you to Mitch.” Mrs. Dawson gave him a knowing look. “I told him how sweet your mother is.”
“Thank you,” Bethany replied. While she and Mrs. Dawson exchanged pleasantries, Mitch helped a customer carry her burdens out to a wagon.
When he turned to enter, Bethany stood outside, waiting. Her brow pinched, lines of tension on the sides of her mouth, she met his gaze. “I will accept your offer to rent the space upstairs. I need to remain in Alder Gulch a bit longer.”
Mitch nodded. He noticed tight lines around her mouth. “We can discuss the details later. But you're welcome to stay. Go on upstairs and take a look.”
“Mitch?” Bethany took a deep breath. “I need to send a telegram. Can you tell me where I can do this?
“I'll take you.”
“No.” She held out her hand and placed it on his arm. “Just tell me where to go. I need to be alone.”
When she walked away in the general direction of the stagecoach station, Mitch wondered what happened that made her appear so broken. There was something different in her eyes. It could be that Bethany knew more than anyone suspected.
Across the street, Barnabas Jones exited the hotel, his pace hurried. Out of curiosity, Mitch followed at a distance.
Outside the bank, Barnabas hesitated, looking around, as if expecting someone to join him. He removed his hat and held it to the side, but did not enter the building. A few moments later, another man, someone Mitch did not recognize, joined him.
Mitch rounded behind the building. He leaned on a tree and waited to see what the two men did next.
“Bethany must have seen the letter. Damn wife leaves everything out when searching for her baubles.” Barnabas spit on the ground, he eyes scanning the area. “My only choice is to force her hand. I told her about the wife's health.”
“How did she take it?” the other man inquired, kicking at the dirt. “I don't reckon she believed you.”
“No, she did not,” Barnabas huffed. “I should have done what I planned from the beginning. Tricked Amanda into signing the paperwork using Bethany's name. No one here would be the wiser.”
The stranger straightened to his full height. The lanky man peered down at Jones. “So what do you want me to do?”
“Take Bethany. Hold her until you hear from me.”
“Payment up front. I'm not going to keep the girl for an undetermined amount of time for free.”
“Half now. And the other half when you return her unharmed.”
“Return her where?”
“I'll let you know. The missus and I are leaving tomorrow, early morning. We will be at the stagecoach station. I'll send Bethany back to the hotel to fetch something, which gives you plenty of opportunity.”
“Won't that upset your sick wife?”
“My wife is indulged, not sick.”
The men exchanged money and the stranger walked away. Barnabas Jones went into the bank.
Mitch remained in the same place until the stranger mounted and left. The man headed away from town, in the opposite direction of where Bethany was. He contemplated how to handle the situation, if he should tell her exactly what he overheard. Maybe he could just keep a close eye on her and insist she move into the place behind the mercantile right away. She'd be safe, her parents would leave and then he would divulge what they planned. So, it seemed the one who had ill will was her father. Her mother was also a casualty of his greed. The woman believed she was dying.
“Mitch!” Charley came running out of the mercantile as he neared. “There's a lady here demanding to speak to you.”
“What now,” Mitch muttered under his breath. He planned to check in with Charley and then go after Bethany. He got to the door. The teen gave him a wide-eyed look.
He entered to find Amanda Jones standing by the counter. Her bright blue dress was another overly-decorated creation. Her eyes darted about the store and she licked her lips. It must have been torture for her to stand still and not purchase anything. She gave him an expectant smile and leaned slightly forward when he approached.
“What can I do for you, Mrs. Jones?” He eyed the woman and noticed she did seem pale, a slight purpling under her eyes.
“I am hoping that you would change your mind about the house, Mr. Banks.” She bit her bottom lip and craned her neck to look around him when someone entered. The woman let out a sigh and looked to him again. “It's imperative I find a place to live soon. I don't wish to stay at the hotel any longer. It's dark and dreary. The food is not to my liking.” She wrinkled her nose. “I know it's important to you. But it’s an urgent matter to me, sir. I don't see why you wish to keep that big house for yourself. It's much too large for a bachelor.”
Mitch rubbed his hand down his face. “Mrs. Jones, there is a house on the edge of town. It's empty. Why don't you go see it?”
The woman slid her gaze sideways. “I did. It's small and too far. I'm afraid my husband may buy it and I wanted to try one last time to get you to change your mind.”
“I'm sorry. I won't.” The door opened and her eyes widened. “Please don't say anything to Barnabas.”
&nbs
p; Mitch looked over his shoulder. Barnabas Jones walked in, his eyes darting from them to the other customers in the store. When he reached them, he gave his wife an indulgent smile. “Did you want to buy anything, dear?”
Mrs. Jones nodded, her lips barely curving. “Oh, yes. I was just telling Mr. Banks how different it is to shop here than in the city.” She walked toward a display case and looked down, her expression stoic.
“Mr. Banks, have you seen my daughter?” Barnabas Jones looked around the store as if he'd possibly missed Bethany. “I must speak to her immediately.”
“No, I have not. Now, if you will excuse me.” Mitch went around the counter. “Charley, I'll be back in a few minutes. Please keep an eye on things for me.”
He left through the back door, ensuring the Joneses did not follow him. His temples pounded and he wondered how Bethany could stand to live with those two day after day.
She walked back from the station, her head bowed and her steps slow. When she looked up and spotted him, her eyebrows rose. Mitch did not waste time. He rushed over, took her by the elbow and pulled her between two buildings. A small barrel and a rickety chair sat haphazardly in what was probably used by the building's owner for taking breaks. Bethany looked around. “What do you think you're doing? Where are you taking me?”
“Listen to me. I need to talk to you.” Mitch searched for the right words, how to tell her everything. “You father is looking for you. He just stopped by the mercantile. By the way you acted earlier, I wasn't sure what to tell him.”
“I don't know what to do. I have to wait to hear back from my grandmother. She's the best person to ask for advice in this matter.” She gave him a questioning look. “Why did you come find me?”
Mitch attempted at a flirty smile. “I thought it was best to escort you to the hotel to gather your belongings before you changed your mind again.”
“I won't change my mind.” She frowned and looked to her shoes. “Mitch, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I find you appealing. I am attracted to you.”
“But?”
“There is no reason to pursue this.” She motioned between them sweeping her hand back and forth. “How long I stay depends on the answer I receive from New York.”
“What's waiting for you there?” Mitch couldn't help the edge to his words. “Why the need to leave?”
“I...I have a job there...and well...it's my home.”
“I see.” Mitch wouldn't try to persuade her to stay. He'd not been in a relationship for a long time. Spent most of his time since his teens watching over his sister. They'd been attacked and to this day, he felt responsible for Nora being raped. Now with her married, he'd lost purpose. Didn't have a reason for getting up every morning. The mercantile was more of an excuse to exist than an actual purpose.
He studied Bethany and restrained from saying anything else. That he was falling in love with her. That he wanted her to stay.
“You must understand,” Bethany continued, “I don't have any reason to remain here. I barely know my parents and I certainly don't have any friends.” When he let out a breath, her eyes rounded. “I'm sorry, Mitch, of course, you are a friend.”
“Your parents are not staying.” Mitch decided it was best to tell her everything. “I overheard your father telling someone he planned to move on in the morning.”
“Where does he plan for us to go?”
“He's only planning for himself and his wife to travel. Your father does not intend for you to go with him.”
Chapter Thirteen
An hour later, in the hotel, rage coursed through her and Bethany could barely keep from screaming. Her father sat back from the dining table and gave her a beguiling smile. “I'm so glad you understand that it's best we move on from here. An associate told me there is plenty of opportunity for business and wealth to be made south of here. The railroad goes straight through it. Along with it comes money.” He patted her mother's hand when she looked to him perplexed.
“But I like it here.” Amanda Jones pouted.
“You will like it there even more. More people and more stores. A dressmaker and, I'm sure, shoemakers, too.”
For the first time her mother did not react as expected. Instead, she sat back into the chair. Her expression blank.
Her father must have noticed because he immediately began to list the advantages of the town. It didn't escape her notice that he did not name the town.
“What time should I be ready?” Bethany asked and stood. “I need to go upstairs and pack.”
From the other end of the dining room, Bethany looked over her shoulder. Her mother sat motionless while her father continued fussing over her. Perhaps the tides were turning for Barnabas Jones.
The knock on the hotel room door made Bethany jump. She cracked it open then stood back and allowed Mitch to enter. His damp hair told her he'd bathed, the mixture of soap and his normal, masculine scent setting her senses awhirl. He stood awkwardly by the door, his hat in hand and looked about the room as if afraid to look at her.
If he only knew how hard it was to keep from going to him and wrapping her arms about him. To hold him close and allow his shelter is what she wanted more than anything. Mitch Banks was firmly ensconced in her mind every single minute of her day. She could not stop thinking about him when he wasn't near. And when he was close, it was virtually impossible to think at all.
“What time?” He went directly to the business at hand.
“We leave for the station at six. The stagecoach doesn't leave until eight.”
“Gives enough time for him to send you back.” Mitch frowned and walked toward the opposite side of the room and back to her. “I'll be along the road with several others waiting. I won't allow anything to happen to you.”
“Why?”
He cocked his head to the side and looked at her. “Why what?”
“Why are you going to all this trouble for me? I could just leave with you now and avoid the situation.”
“Because you don't believe what I told you about your father. A part of you wants it not to be true. It's the only way to prove it and keep you safe at the same time.”
“Safe.” A shiver went through her and she rubbed her arms. “This is all so unbelievable.” Bethany looked up to Mitch. He remained still as a statue, his beautiful, honey brown eyes locked to her face. If only he was hers. She'd stay in Alder Gulch. She'd give up every comfort for him.
Tears pooled and she wiped them away with her fingers. “Thank you. I don't know why you care so much.”
He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her. His husky, deep voice rumbled against her ear. “Don't be afraid. It's gonna be all right, you'll see.”
Bethany closed her eyes, soaking in the feel of his warmth, wanting to remain in the confines of his embrace, never having to leave. Afraid to speak in case he'd let go, she, instead, leaned her face against his chest.
“Mitch?
“Yes?”
“Would you kiss me goodbye?”
He turned her to face him. “This isn't goodbye, Bethany.” His mouth covered hers and instantly everything was well in her world.
The beautiful man released a breath and sunk into her and she raised her arms, wrapping them around his neck. His hands roamed up and down her back and sides sending heated want through her.
“I'll always protect you, Bethany,” he whispered at her ear. “Always.”
Mitch returned to the mercantile, his shirt carried the soft, flowery scent he associated with Bethany. He crossed the floor and went to the back. The pup jumped up and down at seeing him and Mitch bent to pat its head.
The amber liquid in the bottle caught his attention. His friend was always there, always ready.
It was time for a change.
He picked up the bottle, carried it out the back door and poured the contents onto the dirt.
Chapter Fourteen
The new day brought with it a light fog. Most appropriate for what could happ
en. Bethany hadn't sensed anything different when sharing breakfast with her parents. Her father was not as talkative, but her mother was back to normal. She prattled on and on about the new town. Already planning new outfits and what hats she'd have made to match. Finally, they went to leave. Their baggage was already packed onto the back of a wagon and they were driven to the stagecoach station.
The entire ride, she kept her eyes focused on the sides of the road for any sign of a horseman, whether it was Mitch or the stranger. But the fog was denser in the tree line, which made it almost impossible to see.
They arrived at the station and her father instructed her to watch over the unloading of the bags while he hustled Amanda inside the small station. He returned with an expression of panic. “We forgot your mother's jewelry pouch. Thankfully, it's under the mattress so it shouldn't be found right away.”
Bethany's stomach sunk and she gasped, but not because of the supposed jewelry missing. It was true. Her father intended to have her kidnapped.
“What are you going to do, Father?” Her voice sounded flat to her own ears.
“The man inside is allowing us to borrow a wagon and driver. Go and retrieve it. It won't take but a few minutes to retrieve the pouch. You'll be back in no time.”
“Very well.” Her legs moved on their own accord. She could barely breathe, but she managed to walk to the wagon. A man helped her climb onto the bench and she instructed him to return to the hotel.
“Yes, ma'am.” The man snapped the reins and the horses took off at a gallop. When he turned to look at her, his eyes gleamed with expectation and her throat constricted. They headed in a new direction.
Mitch's plan had failed.
Bethany gripped the side of the bench to keep from bouncing to the flooring. As they headed in the opposite direction of town, she screamed at the man, asking him to slow.
Instead of a reply, he urged the horses faster. Bethany eyed the ground and considered jumping. If she broke a leg or arm, it would be easy for him to catch her and take her again.
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