Rescued by Love (Triple Range Ranch Western Romance Book 2)

by Emily Woods

  Rescued By Love

  A Triple Range Ranch Western Romance

  Emily Woods

  Fairfield Publishing

  Contents

  Copyright

  Message to Readers

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Thank You

  Copyright © 2017 Emily Woods

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Except for review quotes, this book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the written consent of the author.

  This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental.

  I would like to personally thank you for buying my book and supporting me. Your letters, emails, and reviews mean the world to me and give every book I write special meaning.

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  Chapter 1

  Miles City, Montana, 1888

  “Almost there now, boys. Take heart!” John Porter called out with forced cheerfulness from atop his mount near the back of the cattle drive. He and four ranch hands had been driving cattle for the past four days. They were all feeling a little tired, but he reminded them of their blessings. “Be thankful it’s not three weeks on the trail or three months like those Texas boys!”

  “Can we spend a few days in the city?” Thomas asked eagerly. The young man was just twenty, and had spent more than a few years on the Triple Range Ranch where John was now foreman. He loved stopping in Miles City, even though it was a fair bit smaller than their own town of Great Falls, Montana, but it was something different from what they were used to. John, more than fifteen years Thomas’s senior, remembered what it was like to be a young man and was looking forward to the distraction himself.

  “Yeah, we can spend two days here, but don't go gambling all your earnings away,” he warned with a grimace. Of course he couldn't control what the men did with their money. As for himself, he had no desire to even step inside a saloon and had saved every extra penny he'd earned over the past five years working at Triple Range. In his bank, he now had a sum large enough to build a home for himself if he desired. And he had desired, until about six months ago.

  No longer completely heartbroken, but still sensitive, John had kept mostly to himself since the local school teacher had broken off with him last summer. He couldn't find much fault with her because she'd merely done her parents' bidding by traveling back to Missouri to care for her ailing mother. While she was there, she met up with an old beau and sparks had reignited. In a long, tear-stained letter, she'd apologized to John, saying she never meant to hurt him and hoped that he would forgive her.

  For about a week, John had basically shunned all company except that of his Heavenly Father. He'd prayed the pain away, and now, two seasons later, he was nearly back to himself and planned to stay that way, single and content to be so.

  “I guess you're not coming with us, are you?” Thomas asked when their business was done, but he already knew the answer.

  “Nah. Somebody's got to stay sober in case you louts get into trouble.” Of course it was a joke, but in fact, John knew he couldn’t indulge. He'd had enough of that in his younger days, enough to get him into a fair amount of trouble and never wanted to bother with such things again. In all the time that Thomas had known him, he'd never seen the man take a drink, but he never failed to ask.

  “We'll be at the White Buffalo down the street then,” he said to his boss, and the four men headed off in the direction of the local watering hole. As for himself, John went to the boarding house they always stayed at and paid for two nights’ stay for all the men.

  “Two nights this time?” Mrs. Rollins asked amiably. “You're spoiling those boys, you know.”

  They stayed at the same place each time they did their yearly cattle drive, so the matron had come to know them well. She treated them all like children no matter what their age.

  “Ah well, they worked hard over this past year. They deserve it,” he grunted, but still gave her a smile.

  Mrs. Rollins made a low noise in her throat as though she disagreed but said no more. She handed over the receipt and the keys to their rooms with a slight shake of her head. John assumed that her displeasure came from knowing how the men would spend their time, but he wasn’t one to judge. Sometimes a man needed to make some mistakes in his younger days to appreciate life a little more.

  After paying for the rooms, John went to the bathhouse and indulged in a long, hot soak. To him, this was much more rewarding than drinking and losing all his money. He even treated himself to a shave.

  When he was done, he stopped in at the saloon just to make sure everyone was alright, and the men beckoned him in. None of them knew about his history with alcohol, so every time they came to Miles City, they tried to persuade him to join them.

  “Ah, you know me,” he always laughed. “A teetotaler if ever there was.” He clung to his faith like a lifeline at moments like this when the golden amber liquid called to him like a siren. He could almost feel the warmth of it trickling down the back of his throat, but just in time, he felt a fire in his belly which he attributed to the work of the Holy Spirit saving him from himself.

  When he was satisfied that the men were mostly behaving themselves, he went out for dinner at the town's only hotel. Breakfast was included at the boarding house, but for dinner, men had to fend for themselves. While he could have had a cheap dinner at the saloon, John much preferred the far less raucous atmosphere of the hotel.

  After a succulent steak, he once again checked in at the saloon where most of the men were pretty deep in the drink, but mellow for the most part. He consulted the bartender, paid up the tabs, and informed him where the men were staying in case they needed to be turned out.

  Feeling he'd done his due diligence, John found his bed, said his evening prayers and slept the rest of the night away, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

  Milan, Italy 1888

  “But what does it mean, Papa?” Elizabetta Romano asked, her voice filled with quiet anxiety. She'd been raised in a genteel home with loving parents, so she was a lady in every sense, but at this moment, she wanted to screech in alarm. “Why would he want to see you? You have no business with him.”

  “I have no idea, cara,” Giovanni Romano replied. “I guess we will find out.”

  Elizabetta wanted to continue the conversation, but her father’s tone made it clear that there would be no more talk on the matter. Not that it mattered. There was nothing more to say. Now, she could only speculate.

  Salvatore DeLuca was coming to call on her father this evening. As the most powerful businessman in the area, Salvatore was more feared than respected. People would scurry to get out of his way when he walked down the street, a fact that made the formidable man smile. His chest visibly puffed out with pride at the terror he struck into the hearts of the people of East Milan. Elizabetta had started worrying from the moment she heard the news their maid had whispered in her ear. What could he possibly want with them?

  Her father was a promin
ent businessman in their town, but he'd never garnered the attention of the rumored Cosa Nostra boss. In fact, they'd managed to live their entire lives up until this point without ever crossing paths with the man, a fact that they praised God for.

  “There is no point worrying, Elizabetta,” her mother said calmly. “God is our protection. Whatever this man wants, we will deal with it.”

  Her parents’ composed demeanor did nothing to soothe Elizabetta's mind. While she'd been raised to love and honor God and her parents, she had the tendency to take matters into her own hands whenever possible.

  Giving up on extracting any more information from her mother and father, Elizabetta walked out of the room to find her maid. The younger girl was attending to Elizabetta’s clothes in her opulent room.

  “Carla, what else did you hear?” she begged. “Did your beau say anything else?”

  Marco, Carla's fiancé, worked in the marketplace and had overheard the conversation between Salvatore and her father. He'd passed on the information earlier in the day, and now Elizabetta couldn't sit still.

  The doe-eyed maid shook her head slowly. “Only that he would be by at eight o'clock, miss.”

  Her father had instructed her to attire herself in formal dress for dinner. She hated to go against her father and was tempted to put on her ugliest dress, but in the end, she selected a royal blue satin dress that offset her dark complexion. Despite her mother's ample warnings, Elizabetta refused to stay out of the sun or use a parasol when she was outdoors. As a result, her already tanned skin was a warm golden brown.

  It seemed to take forever for eight o'clock to arrive, and when the doorbell rang out, her stomach twisted in knots. She was thankful she’d not eaten for several hours as she thought she might be sick.

  “Good evening, Mister DeLuca,” she heard her mother say. “Please come in. You are very welcome here.”

  Elizabetta hated hearing her mother be so civil to the horrid man, but what could she do? All those who crossed the man ended up very poorly indeed, and for whatever reason, he was never apprehended by the police. Likely, he’d paid someone off in the department.

  Trying to pray for wisdom and a calm demeanor, she waited until the last possible moment before descending at her father's call.

  “Good evening,” she said coolly, offering her hand. The man was only an inch taller than her five-foot-six frame, but he exuded so much strength that he seemed larger. Bowing low over her fingers, he bestowed a brief kiss on her knuckles.

  “I am charmed to make your acquaintance, signorina,” he murmured, his eyes glinting lasciviously as he took in her curvaceous form. She nearly recoiled, but then remembered that this man could do her family great harm if he chose to do so.

  “Grazie,” she replied softly, endeavoring to paste a smile on her face. “I hope our simple meal will be to your liking.”

  “Sì, I'm sure it will be.” However, it was clear from the look in his eyes that his mind was not on their food. Her insides churned at his touch, but even more so at the possibility that he'd come here for her. What were his intentions? Was he planning to force her to marry him? Or worse, be his mistress?

  However, it became apparent over the course of the meal that he was not here for himself, but rather for his son who had seen her in her father's restaurant when she was dining with her large family. Not only did she have six siblings, but a host of in-laws and nieces and nephews as well.

  “And so you see,” he said smoothly after dinner was finished, “my son is seeking permission to court your daughter. Of course, I had to visit you first to make sure the connection would be acceptable, and I see that it is.” Salvatore looked expectantly at her father, who in turn glanced toward her.

  “I have always told my children that they will be free to choose their spouses,” her father said bravely, but then hesitated. “However, I'm sure she would have no objection to meeting with your son.”

  “Father,” she interjected suddenly, her mind racing faster than her words. “How can I entertain such a thought when I'll be leaving so soon?”

  The frown on Salvatore's face was so terrifying that she nearly wanted to snatch the words and stuff them back inside her mouth, but of course she couldn't. Audaciously, she continued despite the shock on her parents' faces.

  “I know I said I wouldn't decide for another few weeks, but I believe it would be terribly rude of me to turn down my cousin's invitation.”

  “Um, yes, of course it would,” her mother agreed, a tremor in her voice. “But are you very sure?”

  “Sì, I am sure. I have always longed to see America.”

  “America!” Salvatore spit out the word as though it tasted foul in his mouth. “Who would ever desire to go to such a place when Italy exists? No! Perish the thought! You shall stay here and meet my son. He is not only wealthy, but handsome as well. You shall see.”

  The idea had taken root and was growing rapidly, and she didn’t allow herself to be swayed by his words or underlying threats. Despite the sweat rolling down her back, the lies rolled off her tongue like honey.

  “Oh, but alas, I have promised my cousin! You see, she is without brother, sister or parents and about to give birth. I have some knowledge about these matters given my large family, and I wrote to her saying I would come very soon. I'm so very sorry.” She cast her head down in the pretense of humility and regret. “Perhaps after the child is born and my cousin is in good health, I can return and entertain the thought of being courted by your son again...if he would still be free at such a time.”

  Salvatore's expression changed from livid to tolerant and then, finally, benevolent. If there was one thing every Italian understood, it was the importance of family. “Well, it seems you will not be persuaded, eh? Of course I understand. And so, I offer one of my men to see you to the port of Genoa at your earliest convenience. And when would you be leaving?”

  Elizabetta nearly stumbled at words, but quickly recovered. “I was planning to arrange the times this week, but really, it is unnecessary for you to trouble yourself...”

  “It is no trouble,” he responded in a voice as hard as steel. “And I will do this for my future daughter-in-law. Sì? And you will return very soon after the baby is born.”

  Her words had vanished, but she managed to smile graciously and incline her head. Soon after, the conversation concluded and Salvatore took his leave, but not before eliciting a promise from them to send Elizabetta's itinerary as soon as they knew it.

  The family bid him good-bye and watched him leave in his lavish carriage. The moment he was out of sight, her mother turned to her and burst out in tears. “What have you done, my daughter? What have you done?”

  Elizabetta had no idea.

  Chapter 2

  “It will take more than two weeks to arrive at my cousin’s home,” Elizabetta murmured as she and her parents sat down the next morning to determine what was to be done about their situation.

  “You don't mean to say that you are actually going?” her mother asked, her face draining of color. Cleary, she’d hoped that her daughter would change her mind overnight. “Across the entire ocean?”

  When at first Elizabetta had lied to Salvatore last night, she’d planned to run to the countryside and stay away as long as it took for him and his son to forget about her, but now that he was sending along an escort, she had no choice but to do as she'd said and travel to her cousin in America.

  “Kate is pregnant,” she reminded them, gesturing to the most recent letter they'd received from her cousin in the United States. “And she doesn’t have any other family to help. I shall go to her and help her, just as I've said. Once I'm there, I will disappear until Salvatore's son is tired of waiting for me. If this doesn't happen, perhaps I will have a tragic accident and never return.”

  Both of her parents were stricken now. “You don't mean to say that you would...” Her father couldn't even finish the sentence.

  “No, padre, of course not,” she replied a little i
mpatiently, annoyed that he would think she could end her own life, “but we may have to give the pretense that something has happened. I would rather live across the ocean forever than marry that man's son.”

  “Would it be so very terrible, cara?” her mother enquired, a look of deep sorrow on her face. The thought of losing her daughter forever grieved her deeply. “You would be very rich and powerful. You would have everything you could want.”

  She nearly snorted, but that would displease her dignified mother. “Except my freedom. And you know very well what has happened to the women who displease the men in the DeLuca family, Mama. I would hate to take any chances.”

  Both of Salvatore's wives had mysteriously died of some disease, and neither the police nor the community had ever questioned him.

  “And you know that I can't refuse him,” she continued. “He would ruin us in one way or another. No, this is the best way. I am sure.”

  Her parents were not convinced, but they could not sway her from her plan.

  “I will write to Kate tonight. I believe it takes two weeks for a letter to arrive, so they will know that I am coming.”

  “And what if they do not want you to come?”

  Elizabetta shook her head and smiled sadly. “I have read the letters to you. Kate and her aunt are kind, Christian women. They will not turn me out, but just to make sure I am wanted, I will tell them about my experience with children. I'm sure they will be glad to have me. If I am wrong, I will find work in a city.”