Kyle’s father shot a warning glance at Kyle, and left his seat on the settee. He headed out into the store. Kyle stood still, exchanging looks of apprehension with Samuel.
“Howdy. What can I do for you?” His father’s cheerful voice reached to the back of the house. The blood rushed to Kyle’s head, his ears pounding when he recognized the raspy voice of the person who answered his father’s greeting.
“My name is Hiram Devereaux. My wife has been missing for several months, and I have been given information that she is residing with you.”
“Hmmm . . . Devereaux. The name doesn’t ring a bell.” His father’s voice sounded calm and confident.
“She’s here, Mr. Devereaux. I saw her myself. I swear it was your wife.” A different voice said, excited and high-pitched. Images of a dark rat with a twitchy nose flashed before Kyle’s eyes.
Kyle’s jaw clenched, and his fists balled tightly at his sides. He knew it! Trent Sloacum had wired Hiram. Samuel’s hand reached out and grabbed Kyle’s wrist. He shook his head in warning.
“I’m gonna kill him,” Kyle hissed. Every nerve cell in his body screamed to rush into the store and confront the man - the two men - he hated above all others. Instead, he was forced to hide like a coward and bide his time.
“I can summon the sheriff, Mr. . . ”
“I go by Chase, Hiram. And I don’t see a need for a sheriff. There’s been no crime committed here.”
“Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with, sir?” Hiram’s voice rose, laced with self-importance. “I demand you produce my wife immediately, or I will have you, and your son, thrown in jail . . . Mr. Russell. Your name and reputation don’t intimidate me.”
“Son of a bitch.” Kyle ground out through clenched teeth. Trent Sloacum would pay for this. He’d had enough. He refused to sit here any longer like a weakling in hiding. He yanked his hand free of his uncle’s grip, and darted out through the passage into the store. Scanning the room quickly, his sole focus was the weasel standing off to the side. He ignored all the others. With a loud roar, he rushed at Trent. Stumbling backwards in surprise, Trent crashed against a large wooden barrel. Kyle bore down on him like a bird of prey swooping in for the kill.
“I should have broken every bone in your sorry body the other day,” Kyle snarled menacingly. He grabbed the wide-eyed man by the shirt with one hand. All the pent-up fury in his body rushed through his other arm and into his clenched fist, demanding release. He pulled his arm back. Taking a powerful swing, his fist connected with a loud crack against Trent’s jaw, sending the man over the barrel. He toppled to the floor. Cowering and groaning, Trent held his hand to his face. Kyle rushed him again. He grabbed his shirt and pulled him off the ground. Baring his teeth, he sent his fist into Trent’s jaw repeatedly. Blood splattering his shirt with each impact. The final blow sent Trent hurling backwards into a glass display case with a loud crash. He remained motionless among the spray of broken shards, his arm held in a protective shield in front of his face.
Strong arms prevented Kyle from lunging for his opponent again. He strained against the hold, and with a loud growl tried to yank his upper body free. Rage and fury blinded him. Hiram Devereaux would be the next to receive his fist.
“Calm down, Kyle,” Samuel yelled into his ear.
“Like hell I’m going to calm down,” Kyle hollered, and struggled against his uncle’s grip on his arms. He managed to pull one limb free, his shirt tearing loudly in the process, when his father joined his uncle in restraining him.
“This isn’t helping, Kyle,” his father’s tense voice reached his ears.
Hiram Devereaux’s quiet mocking laughter sobered Kyle faster than a head dunking in the horse trough. Still fighting the firm restraints on his arms and shoulders, his head shot up, and he sneered at his nemesis. The man was dressed in an expensive black tailored suit, his vest a burgundy color over a starched white shirt. Everything about him spoke of wealth. Three men flanked Devereaux, each with a gun belt strapped around their waist. Kyle recognized two of the men who had accompanied them on their journey through the Yellowstone. Apparently, Devereaux didn’t go anywhere without his entourage of bodyguards.
“I should have realized you knew about my wife’s whereabouts that day in the tent.” Hiram said smugly, pulling white gloves from his fingers. “Your demeanor, and the way you looked at that picture of her. I highly doubt you knew who she was at the time, though, judging by your reaction here today.”
“She’s not your wife,” Kyle hissed, silently cursing his uncle and father for holding him back. He blinked away the perspiration trickling into his eyes, and glared at Hiram. His pulse beat hard and fast against his temples. His chest heaved with the short burst of air he inhaled and expelled.
Hiram’s smile faded, his lips pressed together in a tight line. He walked up to Kyle, his icy eyes staring at him with disdain. One of his hired guns walked up with him.
“I don’t know what lies my lovely bride has filled your head with, scout,” he rasped coldly, “and I can see she’s got you wrapped around her little finger. If she claims she’s not married to me, and you believe her, you’re a bigger fool than I gave you credit for.”
Kyle forced his taut muscles to relax. His father and uncle held him in a steady grip. He was no match for the two of them. All he needed was for one to release him, and he’d send his fist into Hiram’s face and permanently erase the self-righteous gloat from the man’s features.
Kyle’s lips curved slowly into a sneer. He held Devereaux’s cold stare. “I’m going to prove she’s not your wife,” he spoke in a quiet tone. “And you’re going to regret the day you forced her into this illegal marriage you and her mother conjured up.”
Hiram’s face froze momentarily. His cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson, before his puffed up lips rose in an evil sneer. His chest jiggled as he laughed. “Is this your way of proving yourself your father’s equal, scout? You couldn’t hope to reproduce his feats, so you’re trying to make a name for yourself by taking me on? I’ve had about enough of you,” he bellowed. “Produce my wife this instant, or you and this,” he glanced around the store with distain on his face, his nose curling as if he smelled something vile, “establishment will be in ruins. Mark my words.”
“Don’t you threaten us, Mr. Devereaux, or you’ll get a feel for our own kind of power,” Kyle’s father said forcefully. Hiram’s henchmen all shifted behind him, their hands closing in on their weapons.
“No one intimidates me,” Hiram laughed. “I will shut this place down, and have you all in financial ruin before you can bat an eyelash. And for making me come all this way to this god-forsaken place, I might just have to follow through with that.” He studied his clean fingernails, letting his words sink in.
Kyle’s father and uncle both tensed at the man’s threatening words. Kyle sensed they were as eager to pummel the man as he was. His calculated words had cut deep, but Hiram was threatening the wrong people. Hiram’s head picked up suddenly, staring straight at Kyle. “Now, where’s my wife?” he demanded sharply.
“I’m right here, Hiram.” Kate’s soft voice seeped into Kyle’s consciousness from behind him.
God. No! What was she doing?
“Kate,” Kyle whispered, his muscles tensing again. His head turned to where she stood. With renewed strength and a growl, he doubled his efforts to free himself against his father’s and uncle’s grips. Both of them must have had their guard down, for he successfully pulled away. He bolted to Kate, blocking her way further into the store. “What are you doing?” he hissed, and gripped her arms.
“Kyle, he will carry out his threats. I told you, I won’t have you or your family hurt because of me.” Her wide eyes met his briefly, before she turned her attention past him.
“Kate Ellen! What in God’s name have you done to yourself?” The rough voice behind him enraged Kyle anew. There was not a hint of joy in the man’s tone. Kyle turned and lunged for Hiram. One of his bodyguards dash
ed in front of him. Kate shrieked. Before the man could pull his revolver, Kyle’s fist connected with his face, sending him toppling backwards into Hiram. With the bodyguard out of the way, Kyle charged at Hiram, and gripped him by his starched white shirt. The older man’s eyes went wide.
“You’ll never hurt her again,” Kyle sneered, his face inches from Hiram’s. Sweat ran down the man’s temples. Kyle could smell the fear emanating from him.
The clicks of several pistols being cocked froze Kyle’s intended actions. He glanced toward his father and uncle. Both had rifles trained on the two henchmen, whose revolvers were pointed at Kyle. He refused to ease up his hold on Hiram.
“Kyle, no. Please.” Kate’s frantic plea jolted his mind. He loosened his grip on Hiram’s shirt, then reluctantly let go. Hiram righted himself, and dabbed one of his gloves against his flushed face and forehead.
“I will have you thrown in jail for this,” he rasped at Kyle. “You’ll wish you’ve never crossed paths with me when I am done with you.”
Kate darted past Kyle. If anyone fired a shot, she’d be hit. Kyle reached for her, but it was too late. Hiram pulled her roughly to the side.
“I’ll go with you, Hiram. Just leave these people in peace.” Kate’s voice never wavered when she spoke.
Hiram laughed. “Since when do you tell me what to do? But I’ve wasted enough time here.” His cold eyes stared at her. “You’ve made a mockery out of me, Kate Ellen. And look at what you’ve done to yourself. You look like one of these backwoods simpletons.”
With a quick flick of his hand, his bodyguards holstered their weapons.
“I’m feeling generous today. I’ll just leave you to clean up this mess,” Hiram said, facing Kyle. A triumphant leer crossed his face. He waved his hand at the ground, the broken glass, and Trent Sloacum, who hadn’t moved from the floor.
Hiram held Kate’s arm and pushed her toward the door. She turned her head. Her eyes sought Kyle’s, begging him to forgive her.
Kyle moved to follow, too stunned to speak at what was happening. Katelyn! It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He was supposed to protect her. He promised her he’d keep her safe. Both his father and uncle moved in to stop him. “Now isn’t the time, Kyle. There’s a better way,” Samuel said solemnly.
“I’ll get you back, Kate. I swear, I’ll get you back,” he called after her, a sinking feeling in his gut. He couldn’t have failed her. She stumbled through the door, her eyes on him, until he could no longer see her. “Devereaux,” he yelled. “If you so much a touch a hair on her head, I’ll hunt you down and kill you.” The door to the mercantile slammed shut, and the room turned silent.
*****
Kate stumbled through the door, and rushed to the window of the hotel suite. Hiram was right behind her. She whirled around to face him. For the first time in her life, Kate had done the right thing. She couldn’t sit by idly, and watch her husband destroy Kyle and his family. She’d done the only thing she could in order to protect them.
Sarah had begged her not to leave her room, that the men could take care of themselves. But Kate had also seen the apprehension in the older woman’s eyes. Hiram would have no trouble ruining the family, either financially, or with outright violence. The men who worked for him were ruthless, and well compensated. None of them would hesitate to commit murder for their boss.
“Kate Ellen!” Hiram boomed, his face red with anger. He’d shown remarkable restraint while in front of witnesses, and walking back to the hotel. Now that they were alone in the hotel room, he would unleash his wrath on her. Kate stood still, and faced him. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, but she would not cower in front of him again.
“How dare you make a fool of me?” he roared. His hand raised in front of her. She stood her ground unflinching, and braced herself for his strike. He hesitated, his arm stopping in midair. He’d never struck her face before. It would leave visible marks.
“I’m done being afraid of you, Hiram,” she said boldly when the expected blow didn’t come. “You can strike me all you want. Kill me if you so desire.” Hiram’s face contorted in an ugly sneer, and the back of his hand connected forcefully with her cheek. Kate gasped as the power of his strike sent her stumbling backwards. She fell against the wall. Holding her burning cheek in her hand, she scrambled to stand up. Tears filled her eyes. She sucked in a deep breath, and raised herself up to face her husband once again.
She smiled at him, ignoring the stinging pain in her cheek. “I’ve been more alive in the last two months than I have ever been,” she continued to taunt him. She knew her words would infuriate him to no end. They were the only weapons she had. Hiram Devereaux did not take kindly to insinuations of inferiority. “No one can take the last two months of freedom away from me, like you and my mother took away my life.”
Hiram’s hand shot out, grabbing her chin just above her neck, his fingers squeezing and clamping into the skin along her jaw like pincers. Kate raised up on her toes to minimize the pain.
”Did you enjoy playing the whore to that filthy backwoodsman?” Hiram spat. Spittle dripped from his mouth, and sprayed Kate’s lips. He released her chin, and shoved her head back against the wall. In the next instance, he grabbed her arm, his fingers cutting painfully into her soft flesh. Kate bit her lower lip. He would not have the satisfaction of hearing her cry out in pain, or beg for mercy.
“I enjoyed feeling like a person who matters. I was treated with nothing but respect,” Kate hissed. “Kyle Russell is a better man than you will ever hope to be.”
Hiram’s hand tightened on her arm. A tingling sensation coursed downward into her wrist and fingers as the circulation of blood to her extremities was cut off. Hiram laughed, a cold and evil laugh. Kate could smell the tobacco on his clothes and breath. She swallowed the bile that rose to her throat.
“Your mother always warned me you were headstrong, and needed a firm hand to keep you in line. Apparently I’ve been too soft on you, Kate Ellen.” He shoved her toward a set of double doors leading to an adjoining room. He turned the knob and pulled open the door. Kate eyed the large four-poster bed that took up most of the room. Would she be able to endure her husband’s advances now, after she’d experienced Kyle’s tender touches? All this time, she hadn’t given in to her desires for the man she loved with all her heart, unwilling to go against her marriage vows. Standing here, next to Hiram, knowing he would demand his husbandly rights, brought on a wave of regret. She hadn’t been unfaithful to her marriage. Now she was forced to be unfaithful to her heart.
“I’m having a bath sent up for you.” Hiram’s gruff voice jolted her out of her thoughts, and he pushed her further into the bedroom. “Time to wash that filth off you, and make yourself respectable again. At this late hour, I hope I can get a dressmaker to come and alter some gowns for you. I will not tolerate you wearing these dirty rags.” He abruptly released her arm, as if suddenly realizing he’d touched something that wasn’t clean. Blood rushed down the arteries in Kate’s arm. She clenched and unclenched her hand to ward off the prickly stings the sudden onslaught of oxygen brought to her starved fingers.
“I’ll expect you to be presentable when I return later.” He turned to leave, stopped, and glared at her again. “Get all notions of another escape out of your mind, Kate Ellen. I have guards posted in front of the door to this suite, and around the perimeter of the hotel. If that woodsman comes within a hundred yard of this place, he will be shot.” He left the room, closing the doors behind him. Kate heard a key turn in the lock.
She sucked in a deep breath at his ominous threat. Would Kyle try and come for her? She hoped not. Her shoulders sagged, and she ambled to the bed and sat down on the edge. With Hiram gone, she indulged in the luxury of a good cry. She would not let him see her weakness.
She flinched when the key turned in the door. A quiet knock sounded. Kate stood and opened the door. A hotel maid stood before her, and two men behind her car
ried a large brass tub.
“Where would you like us to set up your bath, Mrs. Devereaux?” the maid curtsied. Her eyes widened briefly, lingering on Kate’s cheek. The evidence of Hiram’s cruelty must be visible already.
“In here will be fine,” Kate said, pointing to a corner of the bedroom. Eyeing the tub as the men carried it through the door, she suddenly wished for the frigid waters of the Madison River. She smiled wistfully. Hiram Devereaux might own her body, but her heart would forever remain here in the wilds of Montana.
Chapter 27
“Are you really this dumb, or does your boss pay you to act stupid?”
Kate’s head shot up when she heard the heated female voice coming from the hallway of the hotel. It sounded like she was right outside the door to the suite. Curious, Kate moved away from the window. She’d stared down into the street for hours already, it seemed, watching people go on about their daily business. Several of Hiram’s men mulled about along the boardwalks, looking like any other citizens. Kate knew better. They were on the alert for Kyle, or any member of his family.
Hiram planned to keep her locked away in the hotel suite for the duration of their stay in Virginia City. He’d mentioned last night that he had some business to attend to, and tomorrow they would leave for Helena, and then immediately head back to Boston. Whatever his business dealings had been here in Montana Territory, it was obviously concluded.
The key turned in the lock, and Kate stiffened. The movement brought a dull ache to her abdomen, and she placed a protective hand over the area. Hiram hadn’t been gentle with her the night before. But then, he never had been in the past. Kate wished he’d have been drunk. She’d prefer a beating to having to submit her body to him.
Yellowstone Awakening (Yellowstone Romance Series Book 3) Page 23