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Adelaide: Bride of Maryland (American Mail-Order Bride 7)

Page 11

by Ciara Knight


  “I’m so sorry.” She squeezed his hand. “I wish I could do something to save the homestead.”

  He cupped her cheek, longing to touch her more, to confirm that she was still his wife. “I don’t care about the homestead anymore. I only care about you. If keeping the homestead means losing you, I’d rather let Salter have it. I can work another man’s land and still live a happy life, but only if you’re with me. It won’t be easy, though. And if the thought of not having much scares you, I’ll let you go. You deserve better, Adelaide. You deserve everything.”

  “If I have you, I have everything.” Adelaide squeezed his hand again. “We’ll make it, the two of us.”

  “Geesh, already throwing us out to pasture, I see.” Billy said from the doorway. “Don’t look at me like I’m a ghost. I’m old, but I ain’t dead. Don’t appreciate you two thinking you’re running off and leaving the missus and I behind. We’re a family, right?”

  John chuckled and pain shot from his left side down to his hip, stealing his breath. “Ow! Don’t make me laugh.” It took several breaths, but the pain eventually faded to a tolerable intensity. “Of course you’re both welcome to live with us, but I can’t promise where we’ll end up or how we’ll manage. I’m sure Salter won’t give me much for my land, and no other man is dumb enough to buy it with Salter as his neighbor.”

  “Well, if you’re hell bent on leavin’, fine, but I’m planning on dying on that homestead in the distant future. After the missus and I get to enjoy some grandkids.”

  Adelaide shook her head. “I’d like that, too, but it doesn’t sound like we’ll be able to stay. Salter’s pretty much succeeded in running us off the land already.”

  “Hogwash. Thought you said you could do it with Wilson’s land.”

  John exhaled, but didn’t have the energy to respond, so he looked to his wife.

  Adelaide nodded then looked at Billy. “He’s selling to Salter. The deal’s official day after tomorrow.”

  “That’s not what I heard,” Billy said, crossing his arms over his barrel chest and leaning against the doorframe. “Heard he’d sell to you.”

  John cleared his throat to manage a few more words. “I won’t have the money in time, and with the banks in Salter’s pocket, a loan isn't possible.”

  “Well, you may not have it, but your wife does. I’m sure if you ask nicely…”

  Adelaide laughed hysterically. “My stepfather and mother would never give me the money to save the land. They probably already disowned me for not marrying the man they chose for me back east.”

  Billy shook his head. “I don’t know nothing about that, but trust me. You have the money.”

  Adelaide quirked her head to one side, her eyebrows high on her forehead. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He smiled almost wickedly, like he’d just roped his first calf. “You sold your paintings, remember? Not to mention those rich folks over in Butte have been clamoring to commission more. There's that gallery that wants all your work for some sort of showing as well. You’re gonna be a mite busy real soon. And I'm pretty sure there’s enough in your account to buy that land. Probably have enough by the end of the month to retire, certainly enough to buy some men for protection.”

  John stroked Adelaide’s arm. “You didn’t tell me you were selling your art. I would’ve driven you to Butte myself if I'd known. I’m so proud of you.”

  “But…I didn’t.” Adelaide looked between them. “What are you talking about? How…?”

  “Ya see, John and Stella kept blabbering on and on about your pictures, how amazing they were and whatnot, and someone in the mercantile overheard ’em. Told me about an aunt that sold paintings to the rich folks over in Butte. Funny how the city folk just eat up paintings of nature but can't stand living in it.” He shook his head. “Anywho, I took a few of your paintings over there and showed them to a gallery, but he sent me away, laughing at me for trying to promote a woman painter. At the door, a woman stopped me. Next thing I know, three women were arguing about how much they were willing to pay to have the painting, and then the gallery owner apologized and offered some sort of showing.”

  Billy stepped away from the door and handed her a bank book. The amount written inside was more than she'd thought possible. When she showed it to John, he thought he could get up and jig. With this and the money he'd saved, it was more than enough to buy Wilson's land. But…

  “So? We get to keep the homestead?” Adelaide jumped up and threw her arms around Billy. “You’re amazing. I can’t believe anyone would want to buy my paintings, but who cares.” She returned to John and hugged him gently then covered every inch of his face and neck with light kisses. He wanted her to keep kissing him more but had to fight not to cringe in pain.

  “Adelaide, you don’t have to spend your money on the land. We can let the land go and try our luck somewhere else, move to the city, or do whatever you want. I know I’m your husband, but I won’t control your money.”

  She lowered to the chair by his side. “That’s why I love you. You’re like no other man I’ve ever known. I want nothing more than to be your partner for life. And there’s no place I’d rather be than on the homestead.”

  “That's the best thing I’ve heard in my entire life,” John said, looking up at his wife with all the love he could possibly show on his bruised and mangled face.

  “That we’ll be staying?”

  John shook his head. “No. That you love me. I don’t think we should be staying. Not with Salter constantly trying to get in our way. It’s one thing for me to be beaten up, but he won’t stop there. Ever since I left his homestead to start my own ranch, he’s made life difficult for me. But now it’s gone too far. He involved you this time, Adelaide. Who can say what he’ll do next.”

  Doctor Masken knocked on the doorframe then entered, a few people trailing behind him. “How are you feeling, John? I got some folks here that insist on speaking to you. Say it’s important, but I advised them you needed rest.”

  Before John could answer, Mr. Donahue, the mercantile owner, stepped around the doctor. “I know about Salter and what he’s planning.”

  Adelaide squeezed his hand. “I can hear what they have to say. You should rest.”

  “If it’s about Salter, I’ll rest later.” John tried to sit up, but a cannon ball of pain exploded in his ribs.

  “Stay still," Doctor Masken ordered, "or you’ll open up your stitches. And your bones haven’t set yet. I can’t put a splint on broken ribs, so if you move around too much they won’t set right.”

  Adelaide dabbed his forehead with a damp rag. “I’ll let them speak to us if you promise to remain still.”

  He nodded.

  Donahue came forward and stood at the end of his bed, his new bride clinging to him. “I’m awful sorry this happened, but I’m afraid it’s worse. You may never forgive me for what I’m about to tell you, but my wife here showed me that we can’t just hide from trouble." He took a breath and glanced down at Becca before continuing. "I overheard Salter say he plans to set fire to your land if you don’t leave, and that he’d take your wife and…” He looked to the floor as sweat broke out on his brow. His wife, Becca, nudged him to continue. He straightened and swallowed hard. “He, uh, said he’d choke the life from her, like he did your sister.”

  John's blood boiled. Consumed with anger, he bolted upright, but pain slashed through him and he dropped back onto the bed. “I’ll kill him!” he grounded out between labored breaths.

  Doctor Masken raced to his side. “Now you’ve done it. I’m gonna have to re-stitch that. Everybody out.”

  Adelaide ushered them from the room then returned to his side a moment later. While the doc stitched his side, she whispered to him, “He’s going to get what’s coming to him. You’ll finally have justice for your sister.”

  He wanted to believe that life would be kind. That he’d have Adelaide, his homestead, and justice, but he’d discovered long ago that dreams sel
dom became reality.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The air was stifling in the small Glendive courtroom. Above the jury and the witness stand, the judge sat stone still at his podium, his expression grave and his fingers interlaced. “Mr. Salter, rise.”

  Salter's attorney nodded and they both stood. John could see the cocky look on his face, even at this distance. No doubt he’d bribed the judge. He was starting to think justice really did equal money.

  Adelaide leaned into his side, her softness and warmth easing some of his mounting anger. The tension in the room compounded as everyone in the audience sat quietly, waiting.

  “On the charge of horse thievery,” the judge’s voice boomed, “I have found you not guilty.”

  A gasp spread like wildfire throughout the room. “Seems justice can be bought,” someone mumbled.

  The judge shot to his feet and hammered his gavel against the table. “Order! There are several more charges we must address.”

  Salter straightened his tie and stood tall, and John wanted to punch the knowing smirk off his face. He brushed invisible dirt from the lapels of his suit and his lawyer nodded his reassurance. Salter had gotten to the judge.

  Still, John held out hope that not everyone in the judicial system could be bought. His hands tightened on the arms of his chair, and he waited to hear the judge’s other verdicts.

  “On the count of assault,” the judge continued, “I find you guilty.”

  “Amen!” a woman cried from the back of the room.

  “Silence. Hold your comments until after I've dismissed this court. The next person to have an outburst in my courtroom will find themselves spending the night in the pokey.”

  Silence settled over the crowd once again.

  “On the counts of fraud, attempting to bribe a federal judge, and murder in the first degree, you’re found guilty.” The judge hit the gavel against the table with a finality that had the audience cheering and clapping.

  John’s heart soared, as if freed from an invisible trap of hatred that had held it captive for the last several years. He pulled Adelaide into his arms, savoring her scent, the feel of her touch.

  “I sentence you to the gallows,” the judge said, his voice bringing an abrupt end to the clamor. “You will hang for your crimes.”

  “I’ll ruin you!” Salter yelled at the judge, but the older man simply gathered his papers and turned toward the door.

  “I suggest you spend your last moments on this earth in reflection, Mr. Salter. God will not be so kind in his judgment as I was.”

  As the new sheriff and his deputies led Salter away, Adelaide hugged Becca then Mr. Donahue. “Thank you for acting as a witness. You must have been terrified.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t help sooner,” Mr. Donahue said, “before John was hurt.”

  John took Adelaide’s hand. “I understand, friend. Your courage has earned you quite the reputation in town now, too. We can’t thank you enough. Will we see you at the gallery later?”

  Mr. Donahue offered his hand and a smile. “We will be there.”

  John led Adelaide to the train station, nodding and smiling at the townspeople they passed. The town hadn’t felt this light and welcoming since he’d settled here, proving just how much of a shadow Salter had cast over everything.

  Adelaide smoothed her hair back. He was glad she decided to wear it up. “I’m so relieved, but do you think his men will be a problem?”

  “I doubt it. They came up and offered their hands after the trial, asking to stay on after we buy up his land. And the ones who attacked me were all sentenced to hard labor in the mines.” He pulled her close, tucking her into his side. “Now that’s behind us, we can focus on more important things.” He placed his palm on her ripe belly. “How are you feeling?”

  “Large,” she sighed.

  John stopped her on the walkway outside the train station and lowered to one knee to speak to his unborn child. “You’re going to have to let your ma sleep at some point, but I’m glad you’re a fighter.” He look up at his wife. “Just like she is.” He stood and rubbed small circles over her stomach. “I’m glad your ma will be here for the birth, and Mary as well.”

  “Me, too, but no rushing this baby. I need him to stay put until after the gallery show.”

  The train’s horn sounded in the distance and she stiffened, chewing her bottom lip.

  “Don’t worry, darling. They are going to love me, the homestead, our home. Everything.”

  “How can you be so sure? I mean, my stepfather still hasn’t written and my mother’s letters have been sparse and superficial at best. We’ve yet to really discuss what happened, or why I abandoned them.”

  As the train drew closer, her fidgeting increased.

  “You must remain calm. Remember, the doctor said no undue stress, especially if you really do have two little ones in there. Now, take a deep breath. I promise your stepfather will not make you a widow, not when he sees how happy and comfortable you are.”

  “My happiness is the least of his concerns,” she mumbled. She clung to him, her eyes darting wildly around the platform as if she feared another attack. He only hoped that inviting them all here was the right decision, but he couldn’t stand watching Adelaide worry about her relationship with her ma. The moment she found out she was with child, she’d wanted to reconnect with her own mother, something he could understand.

  The train pulled into the station. He wrapped his arm around her and tucked her deeper into his side in fear she would collapse from the anxiety. If he could bear the burden of this moment for her, he would.

  He sighed. If only her ma would’ve come alone. Adelaide's mother sounded like someone he could reason with. Her stepfather, on the other hand, was a different matter.

  The train came to a stop with an earsplitting squeal, as if to announce the presence of danger. As a precaution, John’s men were standing close by to protect Adelaide and his unborn child if anything went astray.

  Several women with large hats and voluminous dresses disembarked the train. He was thankful Adelaide preferred more simple attire, even in her formal wear. A man stepped onto the platform then turned and offered his hand to a woman that was unmistakably Adelaide’s mother. From her perfect facial features, thin waist, and large brown doe eyes, she was almost as beautiful as her daughter, but carried herself a little more regally.

  Adelaide’s hand covered her neck, a habit he thought she’d abandoned months ago. He gently guided it back to her side. “It’s part of you. They love you, all of you. Just as I do. Let them truly see you. I know they won’t be able to help but embrace the real you.”

  Her mother caught sight of her daughter and gasped. John fought the urge to sweep Adelaide away from the woman immediately. Could she really be embarrassed by Adelaide’s imperfections?

  One, two, three seconds ticked away on the large clock above their heads, until the woman shuffled to Adelaide, her arms open. “Oh my goodness, my sweet baby girl. You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you're going to give me a grandbaby.”

  “Two, actually,” Adelaide mumbled, her eyes jumping between her mother and stepfather. She nudged her body in between John and her stepfather, but he wrenched his hand from hers and approached her stepfather. “Sir? I’m John Rivers, Adelaide’s husband. Welcome to Glendive.”

  The man nodded. “I am Henry Carroll.”

  John could sense his men constricting their half circle of protection, and from the look on Mr. Carroll’s face, he noticed as well. John held up a hand and the men stepped back. “Sorry, I don’t want any issues. They're only here to protect Adelaide and my child.”

  Mr. Carroll’s face fell with open mouthed, wide-eyed shock. “I wouldn’t… Is that what she―you thought?” He sighed. “I guess she has just cause. Please, excuse me.” The man brushed past him and John quickly returned to Adelaide’s side. Her stepfather stopped only a foot from her, leaving everyone’s attention firmly planted on his next move.

&nbs
p; Her stepfather stood an arm length from Adelaide, with a business like posture, his gaze sweeping from her head to her shoes then finally resting on her neck. “Adelaide, if I had known Horst Chatgonwitz possessed such ghastly traits, the match would’ve never been made.”

  Adelaide shook and John feared she would swoon right there.

  “I only wanted what was best for you, for your future. According to your mother and your friend, Mary, you’ve made a good match here. A much better choice than I’d made, it turns out. I want to assure you, that man no longer has a future in Boston, Maryland, New York, or anywhere else on the East Coast.”

  It wasn’t an apology, or a grandiose gesture of love, but John had the feeling that for a stone-faced businessman like him, it was the best he could offer.

  Adelaide threw her arms around him, her body shaking with sobs. “Thank you.”

  Her stepfather patted her back with one hand and eyed his wife but her mother dabbed at her eyes and offered no escape for the man. People on the platform stopped to watch the spectacle for a moment then carried on with their lives.

  Adelaide released her stepfather. “How did you both know? I never wrote about what happened.”

  Her mother touched a gloved hand to Adelaide’s cheek. “Mary, my dear. We’ve become well acquainted with her and Samuel. As a matter of fact, your stepfather has begun some business transactions out here and Samuel has been hired to oversee his affairs in Butte and several other cities.”

 

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