This was no random visit. The woman had chosen specifically to wait until Jack left.
Birdie struggled to contain her growing alarm. “Speak as plainly as you can. Why are you here?”
“Let’s say I want a dress.”
“And if I will not sell you one?”
With an overabundance of hip swaying, Madame Bonheur sauntered up to the counter. “I will convince you to reconsider.” On her side farthest from Gus, she drew a derringer from a hidden pocket in her skirt.
Birdie tamped down her shiver of fear. “You expect me to believe you want a dress this badly?”
“You are merely a means to an end,” the madam hissed in a low voice. “I want La Maison back.”
“What are you whispering to my granddaughter?” Gus demanded.
“That I hope she shares my desire to keep my customers healthy. Sadly, older men do not recover so easily from injuries.” The madam tapped her derringer against her hip.
She had to get the woman away from Gus. “Shall we discuss your dress outside?”
“An excellent idea. Better grab your coat. It’s chilly where you’re going.”
“Birdie ain’t going nowhere,” Gus protested. “She’s staying with us.”
Madame Bonheur tsk-tsked. “Such stubbornness is bad for a man’s health.”
“Grand-père,” Birdie rushed to say, “do not worry. I’ll only be gone a moment.” The second she got the madam outside, she’d duck back inside and bar the door against her.
She donned her coat. When the madam opened the door, she fiddled with doing up her buttons, hoping the madam would get impatient and step outside before her. When she didn’t budge, Birdie was forced to go first.
She pretended to shiver with cold and apprehension as she folded her arms over her waist—with one hand tucked inside her coat and grasping her scissors. She marshaled her strength to strike fast.
Unfortunately, the madam was faster. She shoved Birdie’s shoulder hard and made her stumble. While she regained her balance, Madame Bonheur had closed the door and leaned against it, blocking Birdie from returning to Gus.
The woman waved her miniature gun at Birdie like an admonishing finger. “Love makes idiots of us all, Miss Bellamy.”
“How do you know that name?”
“I’ve learned many things since your arrival in Noelle, while all you’ve guessed is that I’m not French.”
“Your use of my old name tells me you’re greedy for gold. You believe I can lead you to a treasure.”
“No, I don’t. I’m smarter than the pair of addle-headed miners I found hiding in Felice’s room last night. They tried to convince me to let them stay without paying.” The madam gestured wildly with her derringer. “When I showed them I wasn’t a weak female, they hastened to assure me they’d pay five times Felice’s usual fee if I didn’t turn them over to Draven or toss them out into the cold. They mentioned a rich prospect and, when pressed, named you as their accomplice. Said your real name was Bernadette Bellamy and you belong to a gang of gold thieves.”
“And?”
Madame Bonheur gave her a pitying look. “And you don’t want your groom to hear this sordid tale, do you?”
Birdie raised her chin. “He knows. I told him everything about my past.”
The madam’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you. But even if I did, have you forgotten about Draven?”
“Jack and I plan to tell him as well.”
“But Jack’s not here now. What happens if I take you at gunpoint to Draven and reveal what you’ve said? The man has a reputation for being cold and heartless. I’d speculate he’d believe you duped Jack into being your accomplice. You’re both criminals now.”
“Jack’s innocent of any wrongdoing!”
“You just revealed he knows about your past but hasn’t told the law. You’ve damned him. And what of his grandfather?”
“What about Gus?”
“I’ll only regain La Maison if it holds no brides waiting to marry. If you blasted women left town, I’ll reclaim all of the men’s attention and dollars as well. I’m willing to sacrifice a few men to get what I want.”
“If you stoop to murder, you’ll draw down Draven’s wrath.”
“I won’t use my derringer. If Augustus Peregrine’s caretaker is detained even temporarily, I’ll merely turn my back—and order my girls to do the same—if I see the old man doing anything dangerous, like wandering off into the snowy wilderness.”
“You’re pure evil.”
Madame Bonheur pouted as if she was hurt, but her eyes danced with amusement. “How can you be so cruel when I brought you a goodbye gift?” She grabbed something leaning against the side of the freight office and shoved it into Birdie’s arms.
She gaped at her snowshoes.
The madam cackled with glee. “I also like to hide things in La Maison’s kitchens. Luckily, I hid myself before you saw me there yesterday. You bought these so you could leave town, so go!” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “Go now and Jack will remain free to help his grandfather. Stay and we visit Draven and you can beg him to spare Jack.”
“I can’t leave Gus on his own.”
Madame Bonheur held her tiny gun behind her back and waved to a man about Gus’ age who was walking over the bridge and up the street toward the office. “Ezra Thornton,” she called. “Will you keep old Mr. Peregrine company until his grandson returns? He’ll come back shortly, or so Miss Bell assures me.”
The man quickened his pace to reach them. As soon as he did, he pinned her with a worried look. “What’s wrong?”
Birdie had never met him, but his obvious concern for Gus made her like him instantly. She couldn’t allow the madam to hurt either old timer. “Nothing’s wrong. I just have to”—she shrugged her shoulder—“go elsewhere.”
As soon as Ezra Thornton slipped inside the office, the madam braced her back against the closed door again and glared at her impatiently. “Are you willing to squander your one opportunity to protect the Peregrines? Hell’s gonna break loose if you don’t move, or if Jack returns and I have to start shooting in self-defense. Tick tock.” She tapped her derringer against the snowshoes that Birdie now clutched with both arms. “Time to strap those contraptions to your feet and flee like they were wings.”
CHAPTER 19
The icy cold turned her breaths to ghostly gusts. Sheltered by the trees, the wind couldn’t whip away the miniature specters or deliver a warning from beyond. Even the rhythmic pounding from the mine, a noise she’d never had the time to learn more about, had grown muffled. The crisp isolation of the woods did little to ease the internal heat fanned by her exertions.
She’d found her familiar stride. The rhythm of running. Feet lifted and laid precisely, compensating for the width and length of her snowshoes. Eyes focused forward, scanning for the easiest path through the woods running parallel to the main trail—down the mountain and away from everything she’d come to love.
Her enthusiasm for her sewing and fabrics paled next to her affection for Gus and her passion for Jack. Would they ever forgive her for leaving?
She’d never forgive herself. She’d promised to stay, but instead she’d left and ruined an opportunity for Jack to find happiness and for the town to win their rail line.
A faint sound echoed through the treetops, brief and abrupt, and impossible to guess where it’d come from.
She fought the urge to look back. Jack wouldn’t be behind her. If he or Draven or anyone else came after her, they’d be on the main trail. She wouldn’t see them and they wouldn’t see her. Not hidden in these trees. And since they didn’t know she had snowshoes, they wouldn’t guess to look for her off the trail.
Her escape plan had worked, and would keep working as long as she kept moving forward.
Once again, she traveled light with only the clothes on her back, her father’s compass, and her sewing chatelaine with her mother’s scissors. The only thing she carried from Noelle was Gus’ bea
utifully engraved but empty survival case and her memories. Three tumultuous days careening between apprehension and happiness. And one gloriously perfect night.
Of all the people who could’ve finalized her departure—Jack, the sheriff, the miners—a merciless madam had done the deed. A woman whom she had not given a thought after her first day in town.
A break in the forest made her halt. Ahead lay a hollow that’d probably hold a pond come spring. Right now, it was a blindingly white gap in her safe haven.
She held her breath and listened. A lone chickadee sang in a nearby branch. Otherwise her surroundings were silent.
A quick sprint would limit her exposure. But now that she’d stopped, her legs refused to move. She glanced over her shoulder. No gaps there, just trees and snow marked with her tracks leading back to Noelle.
Back to Jack.
She blinked the tears from her eyes and leapt in the opposite direction. Two strides later, a cacophony of shouting erupted on her left. Shock made her stumble and fall on her knees in what she recognized too late was a creek bed that ran straight to the main trail.
Two men jumped from a road of compacted snow. Their exuberance at seeing her dissolved into cursing as they sunk to their knees in the soft deep snow. They floundered toward her, struggling but determined.
She shoved herself onto her snowshoes and sprinted away from them. The familiar sound of Stout’s snarl and Stretch’s rasp peppered her with commands to halt.
The trees enveloped her like an embrace. She ran until she fell again. Then she crawled behind the nearest tree trunk, braced her back against it, and struggled to hear above the pounding of her pulse.
No footsteps crunched the snow. No shouting or cursing or labored breathing ruffled the air. Even the chickadee had gone mute.
Had Stout and Stretch gone back to the road? If they had, it’d be foolish to hope they’d turned back. They were most likely racing down the trail to find a new spot to ambush her.
How had they found her in the first place? She couldn’t believe Madame Bonheur had told them where she’d gone. The madam wanted her to stay gone.
But the woman had mentioned talking to the men last night. Maybe they’d chosen to follow the madam or skulk outside the freight office. Either way, they must’ve watched Birdie flee with her snowshoes.
She couldn’t stop now. She got up and pressed forward. An increasingly uneven stretch of ground slowed her progress. She wound her way around rocks that suddenly rose to form a wall with only one way to go—toward the road.
She froze in dread. Four days ago, the brides had passed through a narrow pass on their way to Noelle. This rock now channeled her toward that spot. If the miners got there before her, they’d lay in wait.
A crunch of snow made her stiffen. A muttered curse had her backing up. Her pursuers weren’t waiting. They were using the wall to head straight toward her.
She fled back along the path she’d come. As soon the wall was low enough, she scrambled on top of it. Her only hope was to use the stone to hide her tracks.
A shout echoed behind her. Footsteps pounded along the rock. Gaining ground. Much too fast. The hard terrain kept the men free from the snow that had previously slowed them down.
She leapt for the largest patch of white she could see and prayed it was deep. It held her weight when she landed and scrambled over it. Two thumps and grunts came close behind her, followed by a crack as loud as a gunshot.
The sound invoked the memory of running from Lachlan Bravery. Fourteen years ago, she’d anticipated a similar retort when she’d glanced back and saw the tracker with his Winchester raised and pointed at her, but he’d never fired his weapon.
This time when she looked back she found Stout and Stretch wading through hip-high snow toward her. The crack came again. The snow beneath her feet shuddered. She fell onto her backside and slid downhill.
The snow went with her in a rumbling wave that soon roared. She dug her snowshoes into the surge only to have them snap like twigs. She flailed her arms in search of something solid to latch onto.
When the avalanche parted from the mountain in a vertical drop, she found only air and screamed.
CHAPTER 20
Jack’s entire world shook with Birdie’s cry. Stripped of its snow, the unforgivingly rigid rock punished his legs equally as he sprinted to the edge where she’d fallen. He slammed to a halt on the precipice, swaying dangerously close to going over as well.
A dizzying drop filled his vision. At the bottom, two bodies sprawled. Limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Unmoving and unreachable. Men rendered small by distance and disaster.
No sign of an even tinier figure. No vibrant flare of a woman’s skirt. No rich raven hair across the white. The avalanche had stolen her from him.
“Jack.” Her voice calling his name brought him to his knees.
He bowed his head and leaned into the abyss.
“Jack, stop! Don’t come any closer.”
Below him, a shredded tree dangling by its roots from the rock face came alive with the form of a woman crawling up and out of its mangled branches.
“You’re alive!” He dropped flat on his belly and thrust down his hand.
Her eyes shone like sapphires from a face covered in a dusting of snow as she smiled and strained to grab hold of his hand. Unsuccessfully. Their fingertips were twice the length of his arm from touching.
She sat down, grasped the hem of her coat and raised it to reveal her torn skirt. “Au revoir, mon amie.” She pulled her scissors from her belt and commenced cutting. “You served me well when you snared this tree and halted my descent, but now I must transform you.”
“What’re you doing?”
“Making something unique and useful for my current situation.” Her scissors flashed as she sliced her skirt into strips and wove them together, with not a shred wasted. She held up a rope.
He caught the end she tossed to him and pulled her up. The instant she was close enough, he looped one arm around her waist and fell back against the stone with her on top of him. “You ran away.”
“You came after me.”
“I couldn’t let you go.” He stiffened with dread.
“I know what you’re thinking. But if I’m the one stretched out on you, surely it must be the other way around. I’m smothering you.” She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. “I hope you like it because I do.”
He forced his muscles to relax as he held her, giving her the chance to wiggle free if she wanted. “Gus told me that Madame Bonheur asked you for a dress.”
“She made her request with a derringer in her hand.”
“She threatened you?” He clenched his teeth to stop himself from calling the woman the worst of names.
“Not me.” She shook her head. “Grandpa Gus.”
“He forgot to mention a gun.” His surly tone made him roll his eyes as himself.
“She kept it hidden from him.”
The madam’s brazen behavior made him huff then laugh. “Because she knew it wouldn’t stop him. He’s not keen on letting you go either. He raised a search party and showed how many people in this town are willing to help you.”
“What if it’s not enough?” she asked in hushed voice.
“It’s enough to convince me once again that we’re safer together than on our own. And happier too.” He sat up with her in his lap. “Will you come back to Noelle with me and show Gus that you’re unharmed? He took it very hard that you disappeared while under his care.”
She nodded and hand in hand they walked slowly back along the rock he’d sprinted across moments ago.
“How did you find me so quickly?”
“That’s a long story.”
“It’s a fairly long walk back to town, so I think we have time.”
He chuckled. “Well, when Ezra dashed into Peregrines instead of you, Gus was spitting mad. As soon as the two old timers realized you and Madame Bonheur had vanished, they joined forces and roused the townsfol
k to look for you. They went to Woody and Meizhen at the barn, and then Mayor Hardt and Hugh Montgomery at the mine and assayer’s office. Everyone they met joined them without hesitation.”
He scrambled down the rock to the snowy path that would lead them along the ridge to the road. Birdie didn’t hesitate when he reached up to lift her down beside him again.
He hugged her close before walking once again with her hand in his. “They formed a search party that worked its way into town where they found me at Culver’s blacksmith shop talking to him and Kezia.”
“You returned the flask?”
“I tried.” He stopped and put his free hand into his coat pocket. “Culver refused to take it, saying he was happy he’d finally found a way to say thank you for the leather tool-roll Gus made for him but would never take payment for.” He pulled the flask from his pocket and held it out for her to take. “It’s yours to stow in Gus’ survival case.”
Birdie gasped and thrust her hand inside her coat, then slumped in relief. “I thought I might have lost his gift in my tumble.” She released his hand so she could take the flask and restore it to its rightful place.
His chest tightened with love for the reverence she displayed for her gifts and for the way she quickly reached for his hand when they started walking again.
“What happened next?” she asked.
With her gone from Noelle, he hadn’t been able to think clearly. He’d drifted in a daze following the searchers. “We increased our numbers with Doc Deane and Cara from his clinic, Felicity and Reverend Hammond from the saloon, and Josefina and Nacho from their restaurant. When we reached Cobb’s Penn and Liam and Avis working together inside, he revealed he’d been worried when he saw Madame Bonheur striding up the street toward our end of town. He said she was carrying the snowshoes he’d traded for your curtains.”
“I’m sorry I had to do that.”
The Calling Birds_The Fourth Day Page 12