This Side of Forever (Book Five of the Brides of the West Series)

by Hestand, Rita

  "You forget, I'm the temporary Mayor until the elections. I think my position in this town is tighter than yours. But you go on and play your game Martin. Clay will kill you in the end. He's a lot of things, but he's no coward. And when he kills you, that will convince Amy that he's no good. He'll go to jail for it. So either way, I win, don't I?" George grinned once more. "And I don't have to do anything, just sit back and watch."

  Martin looked shocked, and more than a little angry. "Don't step up too high, George, I can still take you down."

  "Better not try it, old man. I'll have you arrested." George laughed and walked out toward the door. "Thanks for the information, Martin, and good luck on your quest to rid the town of Reno. If you succeed, I'll be the first to congratulate you."

  The sound of the door slamming behind him had Martin slumping in a kitchen chair. It would seem that George had the best of him right now. However, things had a way of turning around, and before Martin was through, he'd take George down with him too.

  Chapter Twelve

  "We must hurry, dear. We won't have much time." Beatrice called to Amy.

  "Of course mother, I'm ready. Just thought I would get my bag to bring my clothes in, or at least some of them." Amy came out of the bedroom and looked at her.

  "What if dad doesn't go to the meeting?"

  "He'll go. He's never missed one yet." Beatrice declared.

  "Then we better get going." Amy sighed heavily.

  "You look a bit distressed. Something wrong?"

  "Just nervous about this, is all. If he were to catch us, no telling what he might do." Amy said glancing at her mother.

  "He won't, now let's go. The meeting only lasts an hour and he stays for a drink or two with some of his friends, so an hour and a half is all we'll have." Beatrice explained.

  "Okay, I'm ready, let's get this over with." Amy said.

  It was Sunday, most everyone was in church and they could move about town without everyone seeing them.

  They hurried over the three blocks to the house and Beatrice opened the gate and then the door with her key she kept hidden under a rock in the yard.

  They called out to him when they went in, and there was no answer. "See, he's gone."

  "Let's hurry mother. I hate sneaky around like this."

  "It can't be helped. It's the only way to get your clothes and things." Beatrice argued.

  "Okay, I'll go on up to my room and start packing. Are you taking anything?"

  "Yes, a few things. I'll meet you down here in forty five minutes." Beatrice told her.

  Amy nodded.

  She crept up the stairs and went to her room. She started grabbing things from the drawers and then some of her clothes from her closet. She took a few personal items from her chest that she wanted as keepsakes.

  She decided she had enough and went downstairs to meet her mother.

  Beatrice was waiting for her. "Did you get enough?"

  "Yes, I think so." Amy replied.

  "Good, let's go, we don't want to be caught here."

  Amy nodded.

  As they went out the front door, they heard a noise and saw Martin going inside from the back door, he'd put his carriage away and went inside.

  "We've got to hurry," Beatrice quickened her step.

  Amy did too.

  They almost ran down the street and back to the hotel.

  When they arrived, a few people saw them and looked a bit perplexed at them.

  One lady started talking to Beatrice, but she told her she had to rush off. The woman looked startled.

  "Who was that?" Amy asked as she closed the door to their room and locked it.

  "Claire Bloomberg. The nosiest woman in town. I'm sure it will be all over town too." Beatrice held a hand at her chest and fanned herself with her hankie.

  "We did it, didn't we?" Amy smiled at her mother.

  "Yes…we did."

  "You look a little pale mother, what's wrong?"

  "It's nothing dear, just rushing about like that…" Beatrice explained. But it was much more than that. She had gone into Martins' room and found Amy's picture by his bed. She was right all along, he was obsessed with Amy. She needed to get Amy out of here. She was in danger.

  ~*~

  Clay stood in George Talbot's parlor waiting to see him. He'd already spoken with the foreman who gave him the evil eye. He glanced around at the fancy velvet curtains, the fine china in the cabinet, the expensive wine glasses, the leather furniture and huge animal skin rugs. Everything in this house was expensive. Good taste played a part in George's décor. However, it didn't impress Clay. Clay was looking inside the man.

  It even smells clean here. It smelled as though someone polished and dusted regularly. The wooden floors shined so bright he could see his own image in them.

  Of course, George had a maid that would explain the extreme cleanliness.

  The house reeked of fine oils, leather and many books.

  George came into the parlor and saw Clay standing there. He knew he'd be out sooner or later, and George was ready and waiting.

  "Well, Clay, it's nice to see you." George smiled extending his hand for a shake.

  Clay looked at his hand and a slight frown creased his brow. "This isn't a social call."

  George dropped his hand and chuckled. "Of course it isn't. I like a man that gets to the point. So what's this about?" He swept through the room like a small hurricane.

  "I came to ask, point blank if you set fire to my place?" Clay stared at him, waiting for his answer.

  George threw back his head and nodded slowly. "Then I'll answer you point blank…no, I did not."

  Clay eyed him closely now, taking in his fancy suit and slicked back hair. Despite his dislike for the man, Clay could feel the quick and honest reply. "Do you know who did?"

  "That would be none of my concern, since it wasn't I, or any of my men." George answered carefully. "But…I must ask you, why you assumed it was me?"

  "You know too well, why. You shot my leg up. I was in an army hospital for nearly a year, healing and trying to learn to walk and function. I figured you thought me some threat." Clay rolled his hat in his hands. "And I figured you thought about trying a different way of getting rid of me."

  George sat down on his fancy couch and offered Clay a seat. Clay sat on the opposite side.

  "Clay, I'm sorry for the injury I've done you. I'll admit that I thought you killed Martin Clark at the time and I was only retaliating for it." George admitted, contritely. "I had no grudge against you, except maybe the fact that you were a Yankee. However, that didn't set well with many in this town, as you well know. You might consider that before you accuse anyone else."

  "Really, then Amy wasn't the reason?" Clay frowned at him now.

  "Amy? No, of course not. All's fair in love and war. Admittedly, she was your girl, at the time. When we all thought you were dead, I stepped in and asked her to wed me. She said yes. That's all there was to that, Clay." George glanced at him but didn't hold his gaze. "And giving her credit, she waited for a long time for your return. Naturally, when she got no letters, no contact at all from you, she assumed you dead too. A natural conclusion. You couldn't expect her to wait forever, could you?"

  Clay nodded. "On that point, I agree. It was my fault. But, I didn't want her to marry a cripple, and at the time, that's what I was."

  George glanced at the leg, as though it bothered him. "You must have had a rough time with the leg. I’m sorry for that. I'd rather kill an animal than let him live a cripple. And you can believe me or not, but, I'm sorry for that Clay. I didn't know. I was so sure I killed you that day, I didn't give you another thought." George tried to look pleasingly contrite over the matter. "But that's a long time ago and you are definitely not a cripple now."

  "Yeah, I guess limping for the rest of your life isn't so bad, is it? Real appealing for a woman, too." Clay tried to keep the sarcasm from his voice, but knew he failed. "Sorry, but my leg caused a lot of problems for m
e. I lost Amy…"

  "Yes…and I guess that probably hurts worse than the leg, doesn't it?"

  "It did. I've come to realize that her happiness is more important to me than how I feel. Just knowing she'll have a good life, is some consolation for me."

  "What a martyr!" George smirked.

  Clay let that insult slide down his back for a moment. "Not at all. When you love someone, really love them, all you want is their happiness, George. And I'll never interfere…unless you hurt her. And if that happens you better run, because I'll hunt you down and kill you for sure."

  George let his guard down for a moment, his smile fading.

  "As I said. I am sorry for your injury. I'm actually glad you are alive. This makes me feel less guilty." George explained. "I can honestly say you are the only man I've hunted down to kill. And it did bother me."

  "I asked if you knew who did this. You didn't answer." Clay put the injury away and concentrated on the matter at hand.

  "I don't know who did it." George insisted, realizing that it wasn't a lie. He wasn't sure who actually did the burning. "But, even though the war is over…people remember. You joined the union army. That wasn't a popular thing to do at the time. I'm sure you'll have to admit, you have a bunch of enemies, so to speak. Isn't that why you do your business in Beaverton?"

  Clay stood up. "Maybe. Yeah, you're right about the enemies. I'd be blind not to know that. Nevertheless, I aim to find out who did it. And I wanted you to know that. I wanted to talk to you face to face, that way I could gauge if you were lying or not. That land belongs to my little brother and me, you hurt him, then you hurt me. I don't aim to let anyone hurt him, nor the ranch again."

  "I don't blame you. I'd do the same if I were in your shoes." George admitted getting to his feet also. "But considering your popularity in this town, you've got a lot of suspects, don't you? I'd watch my back, Clay, wouldn't want someone shooting you in the back, now would we?"

  "What you did to my leg, I'll have to live with. Oddly enough, I believe you when you said you were retaliating for Martin. However, that's water under the bridge. You say you had nothing to do with burning my place, so I have no recourse but to believe it, for now. But mark my words I'm here to stay. My little brother and I are gonna ranch here. I don't aim to cause anyone problems, but I also don't aim to let someone cause problems for me. I'm laying off of you George because of Amy. As long as you leave me alone, I'll do the same for you. That's a promise. Are we in agreement?" Clay extended his hand this time.

  George stared at his hand a minute, then took it firmly and shook it. "We are."

  Clay shook hands with him and left.

  ~*~

  George went to the cabinet and broke out his bourbon; he poured himself a glass and looked out the window to watch Clay ride away. He laughed out loud.

  "So long you fool."

  He leaned back on the couch now, a smile playing at his lips. Clay had just made peace with him, now he had no worries at all. Martin would do all the damage, get all the blame and he would sit back and laugh at the whole thing.

  He'd have Amy, and the town wrapped up like a Christmas present. Either Clay or Martin would be dead, and with that promise, it didn't matter which to him.

  His foreman knocked on the back door and the maid let him in.

  "Hey boss, I saw Clay Reno out front a while ago. Is everything alright?" Sam Williams asked.

  "Everything is fine, Sam. But thanks for checking on me. Nice to know you've got my back." George smiled at him. "Want a shot of bourbon?"

  "Sure…sounds good to me." Sam smiled.

  "Clay's looking for the one who burned his place down, that was all. I told him I hadn't done it. He believed me."

  Sam nodded. "Yeah, we saw the smoke a few days ago. Went to check it out, I don't know who did it, but it was a mess." Sam chuckled. "If I were him, I'd trod lightly in Cross Corners. It could be anyone."

  "Yeah…someone sure doesn't want him in the valley, do they?" George smirked.

  "Could have been anyone. He didn't make too many friends when he chose to fight for the north." Sam added.

  "That's what I told him."

  "Do you think he's gonna cause you any trouble?" Sam asked swallowing the bourbon in one gulp.

  "Not me, he isn't. But someone will get a belly full of it." George laughed.

  "You know he's got it rebuilt almost, don't you?" Sam asked.

  "Yeah, I passed the place yesterday. He's got some men out there. Wonder where they are from?" George's brow drew together. "I didn't recognize them from around here."

  "Rumor has it his little brother got married, and her father sent them here with some cattle." Sam informed him.

  "Must be a generous father-in-law. Clay said he plans to stay here." George muttered. "I think he's a fool. He's going to really have to watch his back from now on. Because someone is out to get him."

  "That trouble you some, boss?" Slim asked.

  "A little, but I think someone else is going to take care of my problems for me. All I gotta do is sit back and watch it happen." George laughed.

  "Don't be too sure, Clay's pretty tough." Slim cautioned.

  "Yeah…that's true. But he lacks one thing." George smiled at Sam now.

  "What's that?"

  "He's not mean enough to win." George laughed again.

  Sam put the glass down and nodded to him, "Better be getting back to work. Holler if you need me."

  "Don't worry, I will." George smiled, staring at his bourbon and smiling as if someone had roasted him a fatted calf.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was late, but breakfast was still being served. The smell of bacon and biscuits wafted through the hotel, as most were just leaving.

  The café was surrounded by glass windows, and a huge chandelier hung in the center. Individual vases with daisies were on each table. A good view of the town offered the guest at the hotel a multitude of shopping conveniences.

  However, none of that was important to Amy or her mother this morning. Instead, they turned their attention to personal matters.

  "You look a bit stressed this morning dear." Her mother saw her furrowing brow.

  Amy knew what she had to do, and she dreaded it. Breaking her engagement would be difficult, but she had to do it. It had been on her mind since she witnessed the fire. That fire brought home to her that where she belonged was with Clay, if he'd have her.

  Her whole heart was with him.

  "Where are you going, dear?" Her mother asked as they finished up breakfast in the café of the hotel and Amy wiped her mouth and stood up.

  There were only two couples in the café besides them and it allowed a little privacy.

  "I need to talk to George." Amy explained.

  "So soon?" The quiver in her mother's voice aroused old fears and the uncertainty of her outcome.

  "Do you think I should wait?" She asked, as apprehension grabbed her.

  "I suppose not, but…right now, I need you with me…would you mind?" Her mother asked reaching for her hand. "I want to go see Bill Jenkins. It's not going to be a pleasant task, and my own courage wanes."

  "The lawyer?" Amy's brows knit.

  "Yes, the lawyer, dear."

  "Of course I don't mind. Mother, are you sure about leaving father? Are you sure you want to do this? You wanted me to wait and think on things. Perhaps you should too." Amy asked the sadness leaking into her voice.

  "I'm very sure about this, my dear. Yes, it's time. Amy, he ordered me out of his house. What was worse, he made it clear that it was his house. What could I do? Besides, I don't love him anymore." Her mother admitted. "I hope all of this doesn't upset you too much my dear."

  "Don't you feel even a tad sorry for him?" Amy asked.

  "No, I don't. And you shouldn't either." Beatrice shook her head. "I know this is hard for you Amy. These next few days are going to be very hard. I’m sorry for you, but not your father. He's brought this on himself. Besides, if I know him, he's al
ready talking to his own lawyer."

  Amy bowed her head. She hated this. All her life they had been there for her, now everything was changing. She wondered about her own changes too. How would George react when she told him? Should she tell Clay? She didn't know what to do. Confusion crowded her thinking.

  "I think right now, we need to rest and not worry so much. Everything has a way of working out, Amy. You don't have to be afraid. If you like, I'll go with you, to tell George." Beatrice suggested.

  "That might be better. He might not create a scene if you were there too." Amy agreed eagerly.

  "Alright, in a few days we'll go see him. First, we must rest and try to relax. Being nervous is no way to live. Don't you agree?"

  "Yes I suppose so Mother. I'm sorry…"

  "For what dear?"

  "Because father kicked you out of the house and it's you I should worry about above all. It's just that so many things are changing, and so quickly." Amy cried.

  "That's why we need to take some time to rest and get used to the idea of being on our own. We need to find a place to live…permanently."

  "Yes, of course. Perhaps living in this hotel is what is making me so nervous about our future." Amy could understand that much. She'd never lived like this before, and it was unsettling.

  "Are you going to ask for a divorce?" Amy asked.

  "I'll find a lawyer, first, perhaps Mr. Jenkins, and talk to him about it. Yes, I do want a divorce. It is scandalous, but the people in this town are going to have their tongues wagging anyway. Might as well do what needs to be done. The sooner I rid myself of your father, the better. I know when I speak of him this way it upsets you, but it can't be helped. Problems have to be faced, head on."

  "Don't you love him at all?" Amy's face contorted with what looked like pain and tears.

  "No…I don't. Not anymore. I can't begin to describe how I feel. I mean, I feel free, and happy and I'm looking forward to the future, without him. Now I can make my own decisions again. He thinks he did me a disservice. He did me a favor. I've wanted out for years; I just didn't have the courage then. But…I do now." Her mother squeezed her hand and smiled. "He purposely nudged me out of my nesting, and I'm happy he did. It woke me up."