The American Heiress Brides Collection

by Carter, Lisa; Davis, Mary; Dietze, Susanne

  He’d just have to do better at encouraging her and showing her that he truly cared. She would do well at the helm of the Abbot empire, of that he was certain. But he had to get her there safely.

  So far so good.

  Chapter 9

  Johnny tightened the ropes around the lawyer’s wrists. “Now I’m gonna ask you one more time. Where is the girl?”

  The man shrugged. “Like I said before, I don’t know. She could be halfway to Denver by now.”

  He laughed. The man still thought they were idiots. “We’re not stupid, Mr. Lawyer.”

  Clive laughed, too. “Yeah, we’re not stupid. There weren’t no boat to take her anywhere.”

  “Who said they went by boat?” The man had the arrogance to sit there and not look worried.

  Didn’t he know who he was dealing with? They’d been hired to kill. Kill. And they would. Why did he think they’d brought him to this shack? Wait a minute. “What did you just say?”

  The man sighed. “I simply said, ‘Who said they went by boat?’”

  Clive huffed. “But there ain’t no other way outta here. Yer lyin’.”

  Johnny smacked the wall with his hand. “Yeah there is. There just aren’t any roads.” He went back over to the pompous man and wrapped his hands around his throat. “Tell me which way they went.” He squeezed.

  The lawyer shook his head and choked out his words. “I don’t know.”

  Johnny squinted at him and released his hold. Placing a gag over the man’s mouth, he lowered his voice. “We’re gonna do some more asking around town, and if we find out yer lyin’ to us, I’m going to kill you.” He grabbed Clive’s arm and then walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

  Mary Margaret awoke to a nudge on her shoulder.

  “Wake up, Martin. We need to go.”

  She sat up and nodded. As she rubbed her eyes, her body reminded her that she’d slept on the forest floor. Ouch. And the thought of having to find privacy without an outhouse didn’t make things better. Then she remembered why she was here to begin with. Father was dead. And she was on the run.

  She stood and stretched. Maybe it would be better to just disappear. It would definitely be easier. But Father would encourage her to continue on the hard path, even if it hurt along the way. And he would be right.

  For a while yesterday, she’d found comfort in the companionship of Charles. She’d laughed and smiled. Even bantered. If only she could find that again today. Her melancholy thoughts were dangerous.

  Lord, please help. I don’t know what to ask for. But You know what’s going on. You know how I ache. Give me the strength to do what needs to be done.

  A breeze blew over her, and she felt a wash of peace. It wasn’t any grand miracle, but it was a start. Might as well get the day started, too.

  After a quick jaunt into the woods for her necessity, they were on their way. Eating jerky, and Mr. Talkative pointing out flowers and birds. How did he continue on the way he did?

  She shook her head. Maybe it was because, of all people, he understood better than most. He’d lost both parents and had inherited the family business. Their situations weren’t identical, but it comforted her to know that he did understand. Even when she didn’t give him credit for it.

  Good heavens. Had she really accused him of only caring about the mine? The memories of yesterday washed over her. She should probably apologize. When she felt like talking again. Right now, she was perfectly content to let him continue on—filling the silence with simple words about the scenery around them.

  On any normal day, she would have loved the learning. The softness of the loamy forest floor. The heavily scented trees and wildflowers that only grew in the beautiful Alaskan wilderness. But it was all a blur. Colorless. And it didn’t make her feel anything. The numbness was again her companion.

  No. She had to fight the gloom that hovered all around her. But how?

  Charles moved a little farther up and picked a few flowers. “Here—aren’t these beautiful?”

  Another nod.

  “They’re called chocolate lilies.” He gave her the little bouquet and then moved on.

  Chocolate lilies. Delicate. Small. And the color of satiny chocolate with yellow centers. They were a beautiful and simple flower. “Thank you.”

  “Ah, she speaks.”

  “Someone has to, or you’ll just keep talking and talking and talking.” It felt good to let her voice out again. Good to share a conversation.

  Charles’s laugh filled the woods.

  “I’m sorry about what I said yesterday. That you were just after the mine. I know it’s not true.”

  “Apology accepted. You’ve got a lot of spunk, Mar–tin.”

  And maybe, just maybe, she needed to be reminded of it.

  Hours of swatting at mosquitoes gave a new definition to torture. They were as big as birds up here. Well, maybe not quite that big, but Charles was tired of battling the huge insects. “How are you doing back there?”

  “I’m covered in red welts, that’s how I’m doing.” She smacked his back. “Got it!”

  “Ow!”

  “Just imagine. I probably saved your life.”

  Their easy banter was back, and Charles smiled. “But you hit me.”

  “Saved your life.”

  “Well, all right. Thank you for saving me from that bloodsucking killer.”

  “Eww, that’s too much for a lady’s ears.”

  “But you’re not a lady, remember? You’re Mar–tin.”

  She laughed. “I’m glad it’s so dry in Colorado. I’d never survive a summer with these monstrosities.”

  He almost said that he’d gotten used to them, but it wasn’t true. Every year, he fought them and complained about them.

  Reaching the edge of the woods, Charles walked a little ahead and saw yet another river for them to cross. He’d lost count of how many they had traversed. Most were just the smaller tributaries that he could wade through. But with Mary Margaret’s short stature, he normally had to carry her.

  This one before them was different. The current seemed fast and the water deep. Looking east, he wondered if they had time to hike around to a shallower spot.

  Mary Margaret came and stood beside him, her hands on her hips. “Well. That looks like fun. What do we do?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” He squatted down to stretch his muscles. The past two days had been a lot different than digging in the mine. “I don’t think we can cross here, and it looks to be quite the hike before it thins out.”

  Mary Margaret walked to a bluff west of them. She pointed in the distance and looked back to him. “Look! There are a couple skiffs out there. Maybe we can ask them to take us across.”

  Charles nodded. “Good thinking, let’s get down there and see if we can flag them down.”

  They raced down the hill, and Charles used his long legs to carry him across the shore toward the skiffs. Maybe they were just fishing, but it sure would help if he could hire someone to ferry them across.

  After running and waving his arms frantically, he finally got the attention of the man in the skiff closest to them. As the man rowed closer to shore, Charles realized that it was just a boy.

  “Do you need help?” The young man waved, grabbed the rope attached to the front of the boat, and hopped out.

  “We need to get to Hobart Bay. Can we hire you to take us there—or at least across the river?” Charles looked behind him; Mary Margaret was still catching up.

  The boy shrugged his shoulders. “Will you help row? That’s a long ways. It will take the rest of the day and I will miss my fishing.”

  Ah. Yes, the lad was wondering how much he would be compensated. “I’ll give you ten dollars to take us, and yes, I will help row.”

  The boy nodded.

  Charles stuck out his hand. “So we have a deal?”

  “Yes.” The young man shook on it. “I’m Eagle Eye. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Charles.” He gestured t
o Mary Margaret, who’d reached his side. “And this is my brother Martin.”

  She nodded.

  They all waded into the river and climbed into the skiff. Charles took one oar and Eagle Eye took the other. Once they got into a steady rhythm, Charles asked the boy about his life.

  For twenty minutes, the young man went on about fishing and hunting. But how he loved being on the water the most. “I was tempted this morning not to go fishing though.”

  “Oh really? Why’s that?”

  “Because a man came into the village in a boat and told us he was looking for a lady. Said he’d pay us a hundred dollars if we helped him find her.”

  Charles worked to keep from reacting. “Did they find her?”

  “I don’t know. I decided to go fishing anyway.” Eagle Eye shrugged.

  More than anything, Charles wanted to look back to Mary Margaret and see her face, but he hadn’t heard a sound. She was probably listening though. How could he find out more? “Did they say what her name was or why they were looking for her?”

  “Are you thinking of looking and trying to get the money?”

  “Hey, we might. My brother and I are pretty good trackers.”

  The boy shrugged again. “I think they were looking for her because she ran away and they were worried about her. I wasn’t really listening. But her last name was Abbot.”

  Chapter 10

  The door to the shack slammed behind Johnny. “Good fer nothin’ …” Now what were they gonna do?

  Clive kicked the lawyer, but the man just sat there. “This wasn’t supposed to happen this way, Johnny. We were the only ones that were supposed to get that money.”

  “Well, it looks like we were the fools, because they’ve hired someone else. Probably several someone elses.” He slapped the lawyer. “This is all your fault. If you woulda just told us where she was, we’d been sittin’ pretty right now.”

  The man narrowed his eyes.

  “That’s right. Your little heiress isn’t out of trouble yet. At least we would’ve killed her noble-like. Who knows what those others will do to her?”

  Crash! The shack door splintered into pieces behind him.

  “Hands up, Johnny Jones! You’re under arrest.”

  What? Johnny shoved Clive at the officers blocking the door and rounded the table. But there was no escape.

  “Thank you.” Mary Margaret looked at Eagle Eye and used her lowest voice as she stepped out of the skiff. Finally. They were in Hobart Bay.

  Everything in her body ached, and she’d had to work hard for hours to keep her fear in check.

  Charles led the way, and when they were out of earshot and visibility of Eagle Eye’s skiff, he squeezed her elbow and leaned over. “It’s okay. I know it’s disconcerting, but it just shows that they don’t know where you are.”

  She nodded. “I know. I just hate the thought that they value money more than me. It’s horrible to realize my life doesn’t matter to them.”

  He led her to the telegraph office. There wasn’t anything he could say to dispute it, and she knew that. But she wished he could.

  When he exited empty-handed, she sighed. “I guess we just stick to the plan.”

  “Yep.” He started back to the docks. “Let’s find the skiff your uncle hired and get to Prince Rupert. Hopefully, there will be news there.”

  It didn’t take long before they found the correct boat. Larger than Eagle Eye’s fishing skiff, this boat had a steam engine and places to sleep. Charles nodded to her and talked to their host—he would keep the man occupied so she could have some privacy. Mary Margaret went straight to a bunk, laid down, and sobbed herself to sleep.

  Something nudged her.

  “Martin, wake up. We’re here.” Was that Charles’s voice?

  She pulled her coat closer around her. “Hmmm?”

  “Wake up, you lazy bum. We’re in Prince Rupert.” His voice held an edge.

  Lazy bum? She opened her eyes. Thankfully, she was facing the wall. Another man’s voice joined Charles’s. Oh no. Their host must be down there. Had she said anything? Pull it together; she was a boy. Charles’s younger brother. If she ever needed her acting skills it was now.

  “I’m awake, I’m awake.” She climbed out of the bunk and pushed Charles. A little brother would do that, right? Even though in reality, he’d probably been standing there to guard her.

  “It’s about time.” Charles sounded gruff. “You slept for fourteen hours.”

  “So what? I was tired.” She tried gruff right back at him.

  The skiff owner raised an eyebrow. “Well, I need to be on my way, so if you two could get your things.” Then he climbed the stairs up to the deck.

  “That was a close one.” Charles exhaled.

  She frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s just say you don’t sleep like a boy and leave it at that.” Charles grabbed his bag.

  He led her to the telegraph office. This time he exited with a paper in his hand.

  “Looks like your uncle can’t meet us yet. Let’s go. We’ve got half an hour to be on the boat to San Francisco.”

  For six days they’d been at sea, and for six days, Mary Margaret had been seasick. It was bad enough that she refused a stateroom on the ship, but now he was having to take care of her around a lot of people. Granted, a lot of them were sick as well and weren’t paying attention, but it would be a lot easier if they had privacy. How she ever thought she’d keep her femininity a secret aboard ship he couldn’t guess, but he was doing his best to keep their cover in place.

  Since Eagle Eye told him there were people looking for Mary Margaret Abbot, Charles had bought the tickets under false names. He could only hope there was additional word from Dillard in San Francisco. He hadn’t told Mary Margaret the entirety of the telegram—of Dillard’s kidnapping and the multiple thugs hired to finish off Mary Margaret Abbot. What if something happened to her uncle before they reached Denver?

  Charles shook his head. One step at a time. First, he had to get Mary Margaret back on her feet.

  At least he hadn’t heard anyone on the ship looking for Mary Margaret. But most of the people kept to themselves. It wasn’t a pleasure cruise, that’s for sure.

  As the days wore on, Charles began to wonder if it was more than just seasickness. She’d spiked a high fever and now slept around the clock. When she couldn’t walk herself to the toilet anymore and started talking in her sleep, Charles went to the captain and asked if there was a stateroom available. Who cared about impropriety at this stage? They were traveling as brothers—and everyone on the ship knew that. Mary Margaret wouldn’t know until she was better, and he’d risk her wrath at that point. For now, he had to take care of her properly and not give away their secret. The longer she slept, the more she moaned and called out for her father.

  The captain allowed him to pay a handsome fee for the stateroom, and Charles moved them into the two-bunk room. As he carried Mary Margaret, he noticed that she seemed even smaller. Someone her size probably didn’t have a lot to spare, and if she’d lost as much weight as he assumed, she could be in danger of much more than the sickness. She might never be able to recover.

  One of the families traveling had a teen girl among them. By the look of her tattered clothes and skinny frame, Charles surmised her father’s attempt at finding gold had failed. Desperate to help Mary Margaret but not wishing to cross the lines of decency, he offered the young girl fifty dollars to help him with Mary Margaret’s female needs and to keep their secret that she was traveling as a boy.

  The days passed in a horrid, long blur. He spooned broth and water down her throat, praying that she would recover. He couldn’t have brought her this far—against such odds—to have her die of illness. No. He’d made a promise. And he cared for her more than he was willing to even admit to himself.

  The day before they were to dock in San Francisco, Charles was on his bunk thinking through his options.

  “Charles?” Her
voice cracked.

  He bolted up and went to her side. “I’m here.” He wiped her brow with a damp cloth. “How are you feeling?”

  “May I have … some water?”

  A tin cup was all they had in the room, so he filled it and brought it to her. Lifting her head with his left hand, he held the cup in his right and tilted it for her to sip.

  She lifted her hand and nodded. “Thank you.” Looking around the room, she frowned. “Where are we?”

  He held up both hands. “Don’t get mad.”

  The slightest of smiles touched her lips, and it was a beautiful sight. “Never.”

  “I had to purchase a stateroom. You talk in your sleep.”

  With a nod, she smiled even bigger. “I know. I should have warned you.” She reached for his hand. “Thank you. For everything.”

  He squeezed her fingers.

  She held on.

  And the connection between them was powerful. Charles could feel it all the way to his toes. Those hazel eyes of hers were stunning. He wished he could spend the rest of his life staring into them. If only she knew how valuable and special she really was. If only he could break through all the barriers separating them. If only …

  “What smells so bad?” She crinkled her nose.

  He leaned back and crossed his arms as he winked at her. “You do.”

  Chapter 11

  Standing on the deck of the steamship took all her strength. But it was worth it for the fresh air. Even if it was just to get the breeze to blow away her own stench. What she wouldn’t give for a bath and clean clothes. Hopefully soon.

  As she stared ahead at San Francisco, Mary Margaret pondered what the next few days would hold. While she hadn’t known Charles very long, she felt a bond to him. And the more she thought about him leaving after they reached Denver, the more she hated the idea.

  In and out of consciousness while she’d been ill, Mary Margaret had dreamed some beautiful dreams. Father was there. Happy and smiling down from heaven. Urging her to go on with life. To be happy. To allow herself to love and trust. When she awoke yesterday and realized how sick she’d been, it was time to change things. Turn over a new leaf. Oh, she would grieve her father for some time—probably the rest of her life. But she also wanted to savor every moment. No matter how many of them she had left. But hopefully, she still had a lot left.