Ruthless Heart

by Emma Lang

  A bell tinkled above the door as she walked in. The interior was as clean as the exterior, with very neat shelves stocked with many goods. She looked around but didn’t see anyone, whether that was a good or bad thing.

  The organization of the shelves made it easy for her to find the saddlesoap and liniment, then the canned peaches Grady favored. She placed the items on the counter and frowned.

  “Hello? Is anyone here?”

  The curtain behind the counter moved, and she jumped nearly a foot in the air. Gray hair appeared in the corner, then one wrinkled eye peered out at her.

  “Whatchoo want?”

  Eliza didn’t know whether the speaker was male or female. “I need to purchase some supplies.”

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Eliza Wolfe. My, uh, husband and I are traveling to his mother’s house and we need some supplies.” She tried to smile to show she was friendly, but her face was too tight with anxiety to let her.

  The person watching her made a grunting noise, followed by a horribly phlegmy one. Eliza managed not to grimace. From behind the curtain, a tiny little woman emerged. She couldn’t be taller than Eliza’s shoulder, which meant she was very short.

  “Get what you need. Cash only.” The older woman put a pair of spectacles on her nose, stepped close to Eliza, and examined her with her owl-like eyes. “You married?”

  “Yes, ma’am. My husband is outside waiting.” Eliza felt the lie becoming more than what it was.

  “You got cash?”

  Eliza didn’t understand why the old woman kept asking her the same questions over and over. Perhaps she forgot things easily, although judging by the store, there wasn’t a thing she forgot in there.

  “Yes, ma’am, I do.” Eliza breathed a sigh of relief when the old woman finally moved away.

  “Get what you need then. Just be ready to pay for it.” The tiny woman climbed up onto a stool behind the counter with, much to Eliza’s shock, a shotgun across her lap.

  First of all, she never even saw the gun. Second, it made her so nervous she forgot what she wanted to buy. She swallowed hard and tried to think of what Grady would do in the situation.

  He certainly wouldn’t be standing there cowering in front of an eighty-pound old woman with a shotgun she probably forgot to load. No doubt, he would take charge of the situation and get what he needed without quaking in his boots.

  Eliza straightened her shoulders and focused on what she’d made for supper the night before, and for breakfast. That sparked her memory, and with Grady’s ghost walking beside her, she stepped through the mercantile and got everything she needed.

  The old woman watched her like a hawk watches its prey. Her stare made the hairs on Eliza’s neck stand up, but she kept at her task until everything was on the counter.

  With surprising speed, the strange shopkeeper tallied up the purchases. “Five dollars and thirty-seven cents.”

  Eliza counted out the money from the small brown pouch and paid the woman, frowning at the fact her hand shook. “Do you have a sack I could carry these in?”

  “What’s the matter, your husband lazy?”

  Eliza just wanted to get out of the store, out of Black Rock, as quickly as she could. She gathered up everything she could in her skirt and turned to leave.

  “No manners.”

  “I would justify that with a response, but that would bring me down to your level. I came in here with money to purchase goods, and you treated me as if I were a criminal.” Eliza turned to glare at the woman. “If you’re lucky my husband won’t come in here and teach you manners.”

  A rusty chuckle followed her out the door. Eliza didn’t know if she was amused or frightened by it. She was only glad to be out in the fresh air, out of reach of the woman’s stare. When she stepped onto the sidewalk, she realized Grady and the horses were gone.

  Grady wanted to shoot the damn blacksmith. The one-eyed old bastard simply chattered on about nothing in particular without answering Grady’s questions. The one thing he did determine was that his quarry had not passed through town, or maybe the other man had lied.

  Either way, he was ready to throttle the smitty. He needed to get Bullseye shoed and anyone would have thought he’d asked the old man to sing and dance.

  “Listen, old-timer, can you shoe my damn horse or not?” Grady put himself between the grizzled smitty and the forge.

  The man was old, but he was built like a tree with arms as big around as Grady’s waist. If he wanted to, no doubt the smitty could simply break Grady in half and throw him in the fire. The heat from the forge almost burned his back from five feet away.

  “You’d best move out of the way, stranger.” His voice was soft but icy enough to make Grady believe the man had done more than work as a smitty.

  “There’s no livery in town, so you’re the one who can shoe a horse. Just answer the question, and I’ll move.” Grady wasn’t intimidated by the man, just aware of what could happen. His hand never left the guns slung low on his hips.

  “Livery up and left last year after the owner got shot dead. Wife took off for her mama’s house. Ain’t nobody been there since.”

  More information about shit Grady didn’t care about.

  “Do you go somewhere else for shoeing?”

  “Ayup, usually to Montgomery. There’s a livery there.” The smitty pointed at Grady with the hammer in his hand. “You look like you already tangled with a wildcat. I know you don’t want to tangle with me. Now move.”

  Grady stepped toward the old man, tired of the foolish discussion and the threats. He leaned over until he was almost nose to nose with the smitty.

  “Ain’t too many men who can threaten me and walk away on two legs. Next time I ask you a question, answer it.” Grady kept his coldest stare on the man for a full minute before stepping away, confident the smitty wouldn’t give him a hammer in the back.

  He had just made it to the door when a woman’s scream ripped through the air. Grady’s entire body clenched when he recognized Eliza’s voice. He threw himself up on Bullseye and rode hell for leather toward the sound of her voice. It was only a short distance, perhaps three hundred yards, but it seemed to be a mile.

  There didn’t appear to be anyone on the street as he flew past, a streak of horse and man in the midday sun. He reached the mercantile and dismounted before the horse even stopped.

  Eliza was nowhere to be seen, but the sidewalk in front of the mercantile was littered with cans, a broken sack of cornmeal, and liniment.

  Eliza.

  He looked around, furious that he couldn’t see her. Although he didn’t want her to scream again, without a noise there was no way for him to find her. There were alleys on either side of the mercantile. He had to take a chance and pick one. Each second weighed on his shoulders like lead.

  Grady focused on Eliza’s smiling face and then took off for the left alley because she favored her left hand when she wrote. If he were wrong, she might die because of it. The sun didn’t penetrate the gloom of the alley. He stepped forward, straining for a sound, anything besides the scurrying of the rats.

  His blood thundered through his veins as he put all his focus on listening. Rushing in might make her attacker panic, but creeping up might surprise him. Although it was the hardest thing he ever had to do, Grady crept along at a snail’s pace. He kept his breath shallow and silent, letting no one and nothing know of his presence.

  He reached the darkest part of the alley and stopped dead. There was nothing here but him and the rats. It was empty, which meant he’d chosen wrong. Where the hell was she? Grady’s fury mixed with fear for her, a lethal combination for whoever had touched her.

  There was no hope for it. He’d simply have to reveal his presence and hope she heard him.

  “Eliza!” Her name was torn from his throat and echoed down the alley.

  “Grady!” Eliza’s scream made the hairs on his arms stand up. It was one of terror and pain—he knew it well.

&
nbsp; He berated himself for not continuing to the end of the alley, because her scream had come from beyond it and behind the mercantile. Both guns were in his hands before he even realized he’d touched them.

  His teeth were clenched so hard his jaw throbbed. When he burst around the corner, he found two men holding her down while a wrinkled old midget in a skirt had her hands all over Eliza.

  Grady didn’t hesitate.

  He killed the two men with a single shot each to the head. The old midget continued to touch Eliza, but now that her arms were free, she could fight back. She stood up and started slapping at the hands that were all over her. A chilly chuckle burst from the old woman as the two of them started rolling on the ground.

  Grady didn’t want to hit Eliza, and he couldn’t get a clear shot. He holstered the guns and reached in to try to separate them.

  That’s when he saw the knife.

  His body turned into ice at the sight of the deadly blade a mere inches from Eliza’s throat. They were moving so fast, she could be cut without either of them knowing it. Grady didn’t like being helpless one single goddamn bit.

  He could shoot the old woman, but if he tried he might shoot Eliza instead. He could separate them, but the knife was perilously close to killing her already. The women rolled around like two cats fighting, getting covered in dirt and blood from the dead bastards who’d held her down.

  Grady stood there on his toes watching them, unable to help and unsure of what to do. It almost killed him to do nothing. He roared in frustration, then figured he had to do something. So he kicked the old woman as hard as he could in the kidneys, the first place he could reach.

  She screeched and grabbed at her back. Eliza, being the foolish woman she was, took the opportunity to take hold of the woman’s other hand. The one holding the huge knife.

  “If you do not unhand this knife instantly, you old hag, I will skewer you with it.” Eliza sounded so fierce, he almost didn’t recognize her voice. Her lips were pulled back in a snarl. “Let go. Now.”

  She sounded so much like him, it was uncanny. Eliza was no longer the little wren. She was now an eagle.

  With Eliza distracting the old woman, Grady was able to reach down and pluck the knife from her hand. Then he took the midget by the collar and dragged her from Eliza although she tried her damndest to hang on to his sometimes wife. He threw the old woman against a crate and she lay still, a tiny ball of gray hair and blood.

  “Don’t you even think about moving, you crazy old fuck. Nobody touches my wife. Nobody.” He wanted to shoot her in the head and end her miserable existence.

  “Don’t kill her, Grady. She’s not worth the bullet.”

  Eliza got to her feet, visibly shaking, covered in dirt, grass, and blood. She met his gaze, and he was sorry to see the sparkle of life in her eyes had dimmed. It had been obvious she’d not seen the darkest side of other people before. Now because he’d insisted on stopping in Black Rock, she had.

  “You left me.”

  Grady opened his arms and she flew into them, shaking so hard he could actually hear her teeth rattle. He held her tight, noting that his heart was beating just as fast as hers. Thank God he’d gotten there in time. He hadn’t wanted Eliza’s company, but she had definitely become a part of his world, like it or not.

  The thought should have scared him more than it did, but he was too busy being grateful she was in his arms.

  “I’m sorry, Liz. I thought it would only take five minutes to talk to the smitty.”

  “You left me,” she repeated, her face against his chest.

  He stroked her hair, picking out the debris as best he could. Eliza was a scrapper, a warrior queen who had shown him exactly what she was made of. He was proud of her.

  “I should have listened to your instincts. Next time I will.” He turned to leave the carnage behind them. “Now let’s get the hell out of this place before something else happens.” As they walked back to the front of the mercantile, she had her arm around his waist and his arm stayed firm around her shoulders.

  Guilt was another emotion he didn’t deal with very often, but he couldn’t help but recognize it when it landed on him. He told Eliza to listen to her instincts, and he didn’t follow through on that lesson. Eliza was the smartest person he’d ever known, and she had just taught him a lesson that scared him almost as much as seeing her being attacked.

  He cared about her, perhaps even more than he would admit even to himself.

  Eliza returned from the creek with damp skin, wearing her purple dress and carrying her clean clothes, feeling much better. It had been a horrible day, and she was glad to have washed off the stink from Black Rock and all that happened there. Grady stood at the edge of the clearing with his back to her, looking out at the darkness.

  The campfire flickered merrily in the twilight, leading her back. She wanted nothing more than to have a hot meal, then to rest. Although the riding had come easier, she was still sore and completely exhausted.

  Grady didn’t turn around, but lying on her saddle was a paper package, secured with twine. Her heart skipped a beat, wondering what he’d left for her. She laid out her wet clothes on tree branches to dry while her gaze kept returning to the package.

  Common courtesy told her to wait until he turned around to open it. Perhaps he simply set it there without thinking. Or perhaps he’d left her a gift.

  When he finally turned around, he picked up a skinned rabbit from the grass. He must’ve caught it while she was bathing. She forgot all about the package when she realized they’d have meat for dinner, hot and salty, exactly what she was craving.

  “Oh, Grady, that’s positively wonderful!” She hopped up and started searching for a few sturdy sticks to use for roasting the rabbit. “I’m sure we can fashion a spit of sorts to cook it.”

  With a little ingenuity, some blind luck in finding the right sticks, they made a spit for the rabbit to cook over the fire. The smell of the roasting meat made her stomach yowl, and she laughed nervously.

  “Hungry, Liz?”

  “Most assuredly. I can’t remember the last time I had rabbit. It’s been years since—” She stopped, realizing she was about to mention her father.

  “Since what?” He peered at her as he turned the rabbit on the spit.

  “I never had the agility required to hunt rabbits, so we had deer when a neighbor brought us a haunch, and beef from the cattle we raised.” Eliza found the story tripping off her tongue as if it were completely true. When had she become so adept at lying?

  “That right? No man to take care of you?”

  She swallowed the guilt for lying, silently apologizing to Grady for her falsehood. “My father was quite old and he didn’t hunt.”

  A few moments of silence followed her thought, which had been the absolute truth.

  “You look right pretty in that purple dress.”

  She glanced down. “It seemed too pretty to wear on the trail, but I had to wash the rest of my clothing.” She didn’t need to tell him why.

  “You got it to wear, so why not wear it?” Grady was taking care of the fire, something she had been doing each night.

  “Well, I’m just not used to wearing pretty things.”

  He snorted. “That’s for damn sure.”

  “What does that mean?” She frowned, trying to decide if she was insulted by his backhanded comment.

  “Your clothes are worse than rags, Liz. They’re so damn thin, I can see through them half the time. Good thing your drawers are thicker, or you’d be showing a lot more than you think.” He sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t intend that to be mean, but it’s the truth. And well, it’s just, I wanted you to have something nice to wear.”

  Eliza took a moment to absorb what he’d said. She wasn’t used to nice things. Ladies in the LDS church didn’t wear fancy clothes, especially the brilliant purple she sported now. She was glad she’d picked out the dress. It matched the new woman she’d become, rather than the one who’d been
trapped by her upbringing and her own lack of self-confidence. She ran her hands down the fabric and smiled. Yes, she was definitely happy with her new frock.

  “Thank you, Grady. I really do appreciate you paying for it, and I thank you for your generosity and thoughtfulness.”

  “I left you alone in Black Rock to get raped.”

  His bald statement made her frown. “It’s true I was attacked, but their intent was never clear. I think they were actually trying to rob me.”

  “How the hell could they know you had money? I just told you the clothes you wear make you look like a beggar.” He poked at the fire angrily. “I left you, and some bad things happened.”

  Eliza finally realized he was feeling guilty for what had happened. She moved closer to him and lay her head on his shoulder.

  “It wasn’t your fault. The old woman was the shopkeeper. She saw me with the pouch of money and decided to help herself to the rest.”

  “That thing was a woman?” He sounded as disgusted as she was.

  A shudder ran through Eliza. “Yes, she was, I think. It was difficult to determine, but her hands were small like a woman’s.” She didn’t want to think about the woman touching her, but the memory burbled to the surface anyway.

  Grady put his hand on her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  She looked up at him, at his dark eyes glittering in the firelight. “Thank you for rescuing me.” Eliza placed her hand on his. “I’ve never been a damsel in distress before and had a knight save me from a dragon.”

  He shook his head. “You read too much, Liz.”

  She laughed and moved his palm to her lips, kissing the roughened skin softly. Surprisingly a visible shiver raced down his arm at the touch of her lips.

  He cocked one eyebrow at her. “Do you know what today is, Liz?” He rose and pulled the pot from the fire, then poured hot liquid into the tin cup.

  “Thursday?”

  He turned to pick something from his saddlebags. “It’s October ninth.”

  Eliza sucked in a breath of surprise. It was her twenty-first birthday, and Grady remembered. Her throat grew tight at the idea he had tucked away the piece of information she’d given him earlier in Bellman, before they’d been truly intimate, when they barely knew each other.