Mountain Wild

by Stacey Kayne

“I’ve known Nathan my whole life—what the hell difference does that make!”

  “Nathan brought the sheriff out here because he’s trying to win and save face as mayor. Could be Bartley just wants my statement on what happened. You have a dead-or-alive bounty on your head. Promise me you’ll stay here or head on to my sister’s. Either way, I’ll come for you.”

  “If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”

  “Trust me, Maggie.”

  “It’s them I don’t trust. I’m staying right here and keeping my sights on any man who’s near you. So long as no guns are drawn and no ropes aimed for your neck, I won’t pull the trigger. That’s my promise. I’ll wait here until they leave.”

  “And if I’m arrested, you’ll go to my sister’s.”

  If he was arrested that would mean Nathan had him. “I don’t want you to go,” she admitted, fear shaking her voice.

  “Strafford is not going to just go away and I won’t have you anywhere near him. I need to know you’ll be safe. Think of our baby—”

  “Don’t say that!” she whispered harshly. She rushed forward and closed her arms around his waist. He didn’t hesitate to pull her close. “I’m too afraid to hope,” she whispered, her cheek against the warmth of his neck.

  “I’m not leaving you, Maggie,” he assured her, hugging her tight. “If he intended a quick kill, he wouldn’t have brought the sheriff.” He eased back until she looked up at him. “Let me protect you.”

  “I’ll keep watch.”

  “And?”

  “If I have to…I’ll go to the Morgans.”

  He kissed her lips. “Wait for me to come for you.”

  Maggie rode toward a massive two-story farmhouse more than twice the size of Garret’s Victorian home. The sun nearly set, light glowed from the many windows. Her gaze moved over a vast expanse of horse corrals. A few men in the yard watched her approach.

  I’m trusting him, she reminded herself. It had taken all her restraint to keep from opening fire as the sheriff of Bitterroot had arrested Garret, cuffing his wrists while her brother had stood an arm’s length away. Garret’s men outnumbered Nathan’s two to one. All of them had set off for Bitterroot.

  She reined in before a wide porch and dismounted. Sucking in a deep breath, she ascended the steps. A hum of conversation from inside carried through the rough-wood walls.

  I’m keeping my promise. She’d only promised to come here—she hadn’t promised to stay. If she had any other options to help Garret she’d have used them. She wanted him back. The Morgans would know what to do.

  She rapped on the door.

  The noise inside seemed to increase before the door opened, a boy appearing in the narrow gap. His white wavy hair caught Maggie off guard. Skylar and Tucker’s son. Around ten years old and about her height, he was the spitting image of Garret but for his deep green eyes.

  “Evening, ma’am,” he said.

  “Is Chance here?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He turned and shouted, “Uncle Chance!”

  “Right here, Josh,” his approaching uncle said from behind the door. “No need to shout the house down.”

  Chance stepped into view, his eyes widening at the sight of her.

  “Maggie.”

  She stared at the pink-cheeked infant tucked into the crook of his arm. Cora’s baby, she recalled. And Chance’s, and yet the tiny bundle held so gently against his chest didn’t fit her image of Chance. No more than she could envision herself with such a delicate bundle.

  Oh God. It had been too many years since she’d entertained any such notions—to do so now terrified her.

  “Well, come on in,” he said, opening the door wide as he stepped back. “Isn’t Garret with you?” he asked, looking past her.

  “No,” she said, her gaze falling on the source of all the clatter and chatter. A roomful of children sat at a long dining room table just beyond the foyer. An array of blond braids and orange curls, little girls of varying ages surrounded the table. She’d never seen the like. The room quieted as so many little faces and wide, curious eyes looked in her direction.

  Have I told you that I have eight nieces? They’ve taken great pride in teaching their uncle the finer points of tea parties and needlepoint.

  Tears threatened at the memory.

  “Maggie?”

  Her gaze snapped up to Chance still waiting at the open door. Reluctantly she stepped inside to a welcoming warmth and the scent of baked chicken.

  “What’s happened?” Chance asked.

  “It’s Garret,” she said, glancing briefly at Garret’s nephew standing beside him. Surely she couldn’t say what needed to be said before a roomful of young children.

  Skylar stepped through a doorway on the far side of the dining room. “Maggie?” She seemed to see her distress. Lifting the hem of her full skirt she hurried toward them. “Girls, finish up,” she said as she passed the table.

  “Who’s Maggie, Mama?” one of them asked.

  “A friend of Uncle Garret’s.” She offered a slight smile. “Is everything all right?” she asked softly, looking from Chance to her.

  Maggie could only shake her head.

  “Joshua, run down to Zeke’s house and tell Mr. Patterson our guest has arrived and he’s to come at once.”

  “Yes, Mama.” The boy darted past her and out the door.

  Chance put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go have a seat in the front room.”

  He stayed beside her as they moved into the room on the left. Fire crackled in a stone fireplace covering the high wall at the end of the great room. Chance motioned to one of the leather-padded chairs and sat in the one beside her.

  “What’s going on?” Tucker asked, his boots coming into view first as he descended from the top of the stairs.

  “Maggie’s just arrived,” said Skylar.

  As Tucker stepped beside his wife, Cora came in from the dining room, wiping her hands on her apron. Unlike the first time she’d met Chance’s wife when she’d been in tatters and on the run, her auburn hair was swept up in a tidy bun, her burgundy dress spotless.

  “Maggie,” she said. “Is everything all right?”

  “Garret’s been arrested.” She glanced at all four of their shocked expressions, noting that whereas Chance and Tucker were truly identical, their wives didn’t share a single similar feature. Cora was short and rounded, her skin pale against her dark auburn hair. Skylar, tall and thin, had a tanned complexion and light hair. “He told me to come here, to tell you.”

  “Arrested for what?” demanded Tucker. “By who?”

  “For cattle rustling and murder most likely. It’s my fault,” she said. All the trouble that had befallen him was because of her. “He followed me to Nathan’s ranch last night.”

  “Nathan Strafford?” asked Chance.

  “He’s my brother. I meant to kill him.”

  “Did you?”

  She shook her head. She’d let him distract her with memories of the past. “Garret showed up and he shot the two men trying to hold me. When we got back to his ranch this evening Nathan was waiting with the sheriff. Garret wouldn’t let me go with him. He said to come here and tell you.”

  “Who all rode out with Garret?” asked Chance.

  “Everyone on the ranch, as well as Nathan and six of his men.”

  Skylar turned her wide eyes on Tucker.

  “I’ll go pack my saddlebag and head out now,” he said. “Chance, you’ll stay and see what Patterson has to say about all this?”

  “We’ll meet you in Bitterroot,” he agreed.

  Skylar followed her husband up the stairs.

  “Don’t worry,” Chance said to Maggie. “His crew will stay with him.”

  “I’ll put the girls to bed,” said Cora. “Maggie, can I get you some tea or coffee?”

  “Tea. Thank you.”

  Cora hurried back to the noisy dining room. “Everyone into the kitchen,” she said. “One cookie before bed.”

>   The chatter of happy children rose up and then faded as they moved into the other room. Maggie looked at Chance who watched her silently from the chair beside her. Her gaze strayed to his infant son cradled in his arms and the ache in her chest became unbearable.

  “I’m sorry to have interrupted your supper,” she said, struggling to maintain some composure.

  “You haven’t. We were expecting Garret and fed the children early so that he could have a quiet meeting with Patterson.”

  She couldn’t look away from the sleeping baby, his rosy cheeks and soft tufts of blond hair…so tiny and perfect. She didn’t know the first thing about tending babies.

  “Callie Mae,” Cora’s voice called from upstairs, “you get back into this room.”

  The patter of footsteps and giggles filtered down from the stairwell.

  “You certainly have a brood.”

  Chance laughed. “Yeah. You won’t find a quiet moment in this house until bedtime—and even then we have our share of noisy moments. How are you doing, Maggie?”

  “I’m worried.”

  The front door opened. Joshua stepped inside followed by a man in a dark suit. His face lit with a smile at the sight of her.

  “Miss Strafford!” He rushed toward her, extending his hand.

  Maggie surged up.

  Chance stepped forward, intercepting his exuberant greeting. “Patterson. Why don’t you have a seat? Over there.” He motioned to a sofa on the other side of a low table.

  “Oh. Yes, of course,” he said.

  Maggie sat down as Patterson sat across from them.

  “I had hoped to have a chance to speak with you, Miss Strafford.”

  “Call me Maggie.”

  “Maggie,” he corrected. “Is Mr. Daines here?”

  “He’s been arrested,” said Chance, and proceeded to fill him in on all that Maggie had told them. By the time he’d finished and Patterson had shuffled through some folders, Cora and Skylar had joined them. Cora took her infant to a chair near the fire while Skylar sat on the sofa beside Garret’s attorney.

  “Do you know who exactly arrested him?” Patterson asked.

  “Garret called him Sheriff Bartley,” Maggie said, sipping a strong, bland tea.

  “Sheriff of Bitterroot Springs,” Chance confirmed.

  “That is unfortunate. Any proceedings held in Bitterroot will most certainly be slighted to Nathan Strafford’s favor.”

  “You can’t help him?” Maggie asked.

  “I’ll do all I can. Knowing that Nathan Strafford is working outside the law makes that job more difficult. Especially when I can’t find any evidence to use against him.”

  “I know where he’s grazing his stolen stock. Is that evidence?”

  Patterson smiled. “It is. Though I’m not sure the good it can do. If his judge is working for Nathan it may not be enough. He can order those claims be verified and stock can be moved. What could help us the most would be to tear down the credibility of Mayor Strafford’s character. Presently he’s being hailed a Good Samaritan of the people, a man victimized who overcame tragedy after his family was brutally murdered by savages.”

  “Lies,” she said. “Nathan is the savage! He killed our father and then found out his will was not written as he’d assumed. My father had made provisions for me and rather than carry out those provisions Nathan tried to kill me. He would have if I hadn’t been rescued by Ira Danvers.”

  “That’s how you came to be with Ira?” Chance asked. “I didn’t know.”

  “Of course you didn’t know. It’s not your business. I didn’t come here to talk about my past. I came here to help Garret.”

  “I believe it is your past that can be of most use to him,” said Patterson. “Would you be willing to repeat what you just told us in a courtroom?”

  “Hold on.” Chance leaned forward, splaying his hands wide. “She’s not going into Bitterroot.”

  “She is the best option we have for destroying Strafford’s credibility.”

  “We take her into town and Garret will have our heads. They have a five-hundred-dollar bounty on her, dead or alive.”

  “I’ll go,” she said. “Whatever it takes to clear Garret’s name.”

  “I won’t mislead you. With Nathan Strafford controlling the justice system in that town, we aren’t up against the best odds.”

  “Do we even know that the charges will go to trial?” asked Skylar.

  “I was in Bitterroot Springs earlier this week,” said Patterson. “Those folks are anxious to set their new judge to work. If word spreads that Garret Daines has been apprehended as the cattle rustler who’s been plaguing their ranchers, they’ll want to see some quick justice.”

  “Then they should hang Nathan,” Maggie snapped.

  “If we can’t count on a fair judge, we might be able to convince the people. If we get a big enough crowd, they can oftentimes sway the verdict.”

  A big enough crowd? A chill snaked through her at the thought of going before any size crowd. Townsfolk tended to greet her with apprehension and scorn. She hadn’t forgotten the angry rumble of the mob filling the alleyway on her last visit to Bitterroot—or Garret standing between them, shielding her, a woman he didn’t know beyond the rumors of Mad Mag. Her heart broke when she thought of all the hardship he’d endured all because he had dared to defend her.

  “It’s settled,” she said. “I’ll go.”

  “Garret wouldn’t want us to put her at such risk,” Chance insisted. “She can tell me the location of the cattle and I’ll testify.”

  Patterson shook his head. “Maggie is the evidence we need to prove Strafford is a murderer as well as a thief. Our best defense is going to be destroying his character.”

  “And what if they don’t believe her? It will be her word against his. He’s the town hero and Maggie’s…not known for her sweet and gentle nature.”

  She nearly grinned, his description far too kind for what folks really thought of her. “I’ll take that chance,” she said.

  “Garret sent her here to keep her out of this, not thrust her on center stage!”

  “He said we’d find a solution together. I’m not afraid to face Nathan. I’m afraid of what could happen if I don’t.”

  “They’ll arrest you the moment you step foot in that town,” Chance argued. “They’ve got wanted posters for Mad Mag on every street corner.”

  “I’ll turn myself in before I’ll see Garret hang!”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  Cora’s voice drew everyone’s gaze to the rocking chair closest to the fireplace. She stared at Maggie as she patted the bundle on her shoulder. “You said Mad Mag is wanted, right?”

  “Yeah,” said Chance.

  “Well, we’re not talking about Mad Mag. We’re talking about Margaret Strafford.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Maggie.

  “I don’t like it.” Chance shook his head.

  “I think it’s brilliant.” Skylar’s eyes sparkled as she smiled. “Folks in Bitterroot Springs have never met Margaret Grace Strafford.”

  “I believe it’s time they did,” Cora said as she stood.

  Both women stalked toward her, and Maggie suddenly felt like an animal caught in a snare.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “L et’s go, Daines.” Sheriff Bartley stood on the other side of the cell door, handcuffs in hand. He didn’t look eager to open the cell. “Clint, you better stand down.”

  Sitting on a cot against the wall, Garret’s foreman gave the sheriff a puzzled glance. “The glare off that badge must be blinding you. I haven’t moved.” The night before he’d blackened the sheriff’s eye for accusing his crew of being rustlers, earning himself the neighboring cot. “Stupid and blind as you’ve become, it’s a good thing you don’t work on the Lazy J no more. I’d have fired your sorry hide.”

  “Put your gun on him,” Bartley said to his deputy.

  Garret laughed and got to his feet as Clint shook his head in di
sgust.

  “Stick your hands through the bars,” he instructed as Garret stepped up to the door.

  “Damn, Bartley,” he said, holding out his wrists so he could slap the metal bands on them. “Why in hell are you acting like I’m some crazed criminal?”

  “’Cause he’s stupid and blind,” Clint said from behind him.

  “You murdered two men,” said Bartley.

  “While defending my woman!”

  “You and Mad Mag? Hell, Garret. Even I don’t believe that. Even if she was Strafford’s sister. You bes’ come up with a better story ’fore you go in front of that judge.”

  Bartley ushered him toward the door leading to the main room of the sheriff’s office.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Judge is ready to see you.”

  Garret stopped just before the door. “They can’t make me go to trial before my attorney arrives.”

  “They sure can. Lucky for you, your fancy attorney rode in a short while ago. Don’t know the good it will do ya. Heard the judge sayin’ that a man who needs a lawyer has somethin’ to hide.”

  “Whose side are you on?” The moment he stepped into the office he got his answer. Strafford and two of his men stood among eight of Garret’s ranch hands.

  “Mayor Strafford,” Bartley said in a cheerful tone.

  Kuhana and Mitch stood at the center of the room as though they’d been blocking Strafford’s advance.

  “Sheriff Bartley, once you clear out this garbage, I want a posse assembled to hunt down Mad Mag. She’s a danger to my good citizens.”

  “Yes, sir, Mayor Strafford,” Bartley said.

  “Unless Mr. Daines would be so kind as to reveal her location right now. If he’s innocent of rustling, he should be willing to turn in Mad Mag.”

  “I don’t know a woman by any such name,” he said. “Maybe I should ask your sister.”

  “We all know who Mad Mag is,” Bartley snapped impatiently.

  “You feel it, don’t you, Strafford?” Garret said as he stepped beside him. “The sins of your past catching up with you?”

  “You’re going to hang,” Strafford said with dark certainty. “With any luck you’ll live just long enough for me to find her.”

  “Mayor Strafford, if you’ll kindly step aside, we’re on our way out.”