by Amy Sandas
The clerk blushed. “Ah…well, ah, let me see here.” He started to scurry around behind the counter. “We don’t usually keep such things on hand, but, ah…yes! Here we are.” He withdrew a small scrap of paper and a lead pencil nub and slid both across the counter.
“Thank you. It shall only take a moment.”
She scribbled out a quick note, telling Alexandra that the stage would not be reaching Helena after all and that she was stranded in White Sulfur Springs, and could her friend please send someone as quickly as possible to fetch her? She didn’t intend for the letter to sound desperate and impatient, but there was no hope for it. She was desperate and impatient. After folding the sheet, she carefully addressed the outside and set the letter in the bin initially indicated by the clerk.
“Two cents, please.”
Discreetly withdrawing the proper coins from where she had them tucked into her glove, Courtney paid the postage fee.
“Is there a hotel in town where I might procure a room for a few days?”
“Miss Mabel has a boardinghouse down the road, though I don’t know for sure if she’s got any open rooms.”
Courtney smiled her thanks to the postal clerk, already envisioning a quaint but comfortable room with clean sheets on the bed. Maybe even a hot, tasty meal. She had given up on finding food that was near the same quality she was accustomed to, but she would settle for edible and filling right now. She couldn’t very well expect a rugged town in the Western Territories to provide the same levels of comfort as a big city back East. She had left Boston in search of a new life. It was time to embrace all of what that meant.
As she stepped onto the boardwalk, blinking against the bright summer sunlight, Courtney didn’t realize she had stepped right into someone’s path until it was too late.
And of course, it had to be Mr. Martin.
What should have been just a very brief bumping of elbows and shoulders became much more when he took swift advantage of the encounter by wrapping his arms around her in an exaggerated and unnecessary attempt at steadying her.
Courtney immediately put her hands up to try to shove him away, but her efforts were ineffectual. He was intent on holding her close.
“It’s my lovely traveling companion,” he exclaimed. His face was so close that she could feel the heat of his breath on her cheek. “What a pleasure to run into you again so soon.”
“I would thank you to release me, sir.”
“Not yet, sweetheart. I never did get your name.”
“And you never will. Now let me go,” Courtney stated more forcefully. Her stomach turned in distress as she glanced around to see if there was anyone who might come to her aid.
“Let the lady go.”
Despite their low timbre, the words were spoken from behind her in such a hard and forceful tone that Mr. Martin’s grip around her waist loosened as though on command. She did not waste time in giving a solid push against his chest and wrenching free. She quickly backed away from Mr. Martin’s grabby reach, which brought her closer to her unknown rescuer.
Turning to acknowledge the man who had come to her aid, all she saw was the expanse of a broad male chest covered by a faded blue cotton shirt. The scents of horse and leather and sunbaked earth filled her nostrils. Distracted and still a little distressed, she felt her foot catch in the twisted length of her skirts on her next step, and she started to stumble. Warm, rough, capable hands grasped her arms as the stranger held her secure until she regained her balance. A low sound escaped the man’s throat as his hands dropped away.
“My apologies,” he muttered as he stepped back from her. The velvety texture of his voice soothed and flustered at the same time.
Courtney took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure after the discomfiting experience of being handled so familiarly first by Mr. Martin and then by the tall stranger. She wasn’t used to such treatment…but while Mr. Martin’s assistance had caused only irritation, this stranger certainly deserved her thanks. She corrected her posture and made sure her expression was perfectly neutral before she lifted her chin, prepared to utter a swift expression of gratitude.
The words never made it past her lips.
In fact, everything—her train of thought, her breath, time itself—just stopped.
The man stood a few inches taller than her and wore a wide-brimmed cowboy hat that blocked the sun, giving her an unimpeded look at one of the most handsome faces she had ever seen.
His skin was bronzed from exposure to the sun, and a hint of sandy-brown beard shadowed a hard jawline and square chin. Though his mouth was pressed into a firm line, it didn’t disguise the masculine beauty of his arched lips beneath a well-shaped nose and strong cheekbones. His features were put together in a way that was rugged yet undeniably attractive.
But his eyes—pale blue like a summer sky brushed with wispy clouds—were what had given her the intense little shock of awareness. It was like being woken up from a hazy dream. Everything just suddenly become more vivid, more…awake. His gaze held a hint of impatience as he looked down at her from beneath a furrowed brow.
While she stood dumbfounded, he swept his stunning gaze over her person.
His hard expression tensed even more as he took in the sight of her elaborate wedding gown before finally returning to her face. Only now, instead of impatience, she saw the glimmer of something more in his eyes.
She had to consciously tell herself not to react to the way he eyed her so openly. Keeping her expression calm and unruffled under this man’s intense regard was not an easy task, especially now that she was dealing with strange little sparks that had ignited beneath her skin everywhere his gaze had fallen.
She was accustomed to inciting admiration in the gentlemen of her circles—she had been told she was beautiful often enough throughout her life to believe it was so. But she could not say she had ever inspired the flash of irritation she noted in his eyes when he finished his perusal.
He sent a focused glare toward the post office behind her before looking down at her once again. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered, his smooth-textured voice a strange contradiction to his harsh visage.
He was scowling. At her.
The tingling sparks of attraction coalesced into a ball of indignant fire that seared a path through her center. Her balance and composure now restored, she tipped her head and mimicked a tone her mother most often used when she was discussing fortune hunters and social climbers. “I beg your pardon.”
“As do I,” Mr. Martin stated in irritation.
Courtney had completely forgotten he was there.
Why was he still there, anyway?
“The lady and I were having a little chat,” the odious man continued. “There is no reason for you to butt in.”
The cowboy kept his focus on Courtney. “You wanna continue your chat with him?” he asked with a jerk of his head.
“I do not,” Courtney replied without hesitation, and the cowboy gave Mr. Martin a dark look.
“You heard her.”
There was only a brief pause before Mr. Martin gratefully took himself away. Courtney released a subtle breath of relief. She would have again attempted to offer her thanks, but something in the stranger’s manner stopped her.
His expression had turned suspicious now that it was just the two of them standing there on the boardwalk. “Tell me you’re not one of those Eastern brides.”
She could not believe she had briefly thought his voice was soothing. There was nothing in his tone but a harsh, abrasive command.
Courtney did not respond well to commands. “I do not have to tell you a thing,” she replied, her tone as sharp as his. “You are a complete stranger to me.”
He was not deterred in the slightest. In fact, his cool eyes became even more direct and intense. “That’s a wedding dress.”
She met his g
aze, refusing to be cowed by his rudeness. “It is.”
“And you just got to town?”
“I did.”
“From where?”
“Boston.” Courtney wasn’t sure why he was asking so many questions. She was even less sure why she was answering them.
“I knew it,” he snarled beneath his breath. “Randall’s gone and done it this time.”
The derision in his tone put her on the defensive, but his comment simply confused her. Best to retreat—nothing good would come of this.
“I do believe this conversation has run its course. Although I appreciate your assistance just now, I should be on my way. If you’ll excuse me.” Courtney made as if to step past him, but he essentially blocked the boardwalk and clearly wasn’t budging.
If asked whether Courtney Adams was prone to disagreeable displays, anyone of her acquaintance back home would have offered endless protestations to the contrary. Courtney was known for being consistently bright, effervescent, joyful, and pleasant. She charmed people with her smile and set them at ease with her light and amusing banter—when she wasn’t following her mother’s instructions to be placidly polite.
No one knew that, in contrast to all her outward pleasantries, she possessed a fierce temper that she often had to work diligently to prevent from rearing its head.
This was one of those times.
The muscles of his jaw bunched and released as he lowered his chin a fraction, causing the brim of his hat to shadow his face. “Why are you here?”
Courtney bristled. “I came west to start a new life,” she answered in a tone that dared him to challenge her further.
He gave a short grunt that she didn’t even bother to interpret.
His body—lean and muscled, dressed in cotton and denim—was taut with what she could only identify as extreme aggravation. His features were tense, and his eyes were hard. She was equally tense, though it was from a sense of disorientation that she did not appreciate. Nor did she particularly appreciate it when he swept those eyes over her once again. Slowly this time, taking in every detail—from her torn and dusty hem to her soiled full-length gloves to her less-than-elegantly coiffed hair—before coming back to meet her gaze.
His stark assessment left her stunned. She’d felt the coldness of his startling gaze, and she’d felt his disdain. She had never been treated with such disrespect, and the burning fire of her temper flared hot within her.
“Now, if you do not mind stepping aside,” she continued in a sharp tone, “I must be on my way.”
“You’ve got somewhere to go?”
Courtney glanced down the road in the direction of the boardinghouse. “Of course. I just need to wait for my escort to arrive.”
He huffed an angry sigh. “That’d be me.”
Courtney had to concentrate intently to keep her eyebrows from shooting upward in shock as she stared at the man still blocking her path. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the muscles of his forearms were dramatically defined by the way his arms were crossed over his chest. She had no idea what to say.
“Pardon me?”
“I’ve been sent to fetch you.” He said the words as though they contained a bitter taste, and he wished not to keep them in his mouth any longer than he had to.
“You?” she asked, her eyes widening.
Alexandra must have known the coach would not make it all the way to Helena and arranged for this man to see her the rest of the way. She had traveled this route before, Courtney reminded herself.
The cowboy—who still hadn’t bothered to offer his name—glanced across the street, and his scowl darkened. Courtney followed his gaze to see that Mr. Martin stood on the opposite boardwalk staring at them with an angry, almost jealous look on his face. A trickle of unease teased the back of her neck.
“Look, none of this was my idea, and I ain’t happy about it. But you’re my responsibility now, so you’ll have to come with me until I figure this mess out.”
The man’s rudeness was unparalleled. Courtney could not imagine why Alexandra would have sent this ill-mannered cowboy to pick her up, but if he was here to see her to Helena, she supposed she should be grateful. At least she would not have to sit in this dusty town any longer than necessary. This challenging journey would soon be over. The thought had her brightening considerably.
She straightened her spine and even managed a smile as she replied. “I wish you would have indicated that sooner. I would be happy to go with you. Unless, of course, you haven’t quite finished interrogating me,” she added with a lifted brow.
Rather than being chastised, however, he pinned her with a hard look. “You’re gonna have to lose that high-and-mighty attitude of yours quickly enough out here. No one’s gonna stand for it long.”
Her temperature rose a couple degrees as she squared off and sent a hard look right back at him. “But I suppose I am expected to endure your overwhelming rudeness?”
“You’ll have to endure a helluva lot more than that, princess. A woman like you, out here…” He didn’t bother finishing the thought, as though the rest of what he’d say should be obvious. “If you weren’t ready for the challenge, you shouldn’t have signed up for it. You may as well head right back to where you came from.”
Courtney had nearly had enough. It took every bit of her mother’s training to keep her from stepping up to the man and giving him a true piece of her mind. Instead, she spoke in even tones. “I can’t go back,” she said. “But I assure you I will manage just fine.”
For a second, it seemed he might refuse. With a hard gaze, he glanced around them, as though assessing whether he could just leave her there.
He wouldn’t, of course. Alexandra wouldn’t have sent him if she didn’t trust him to do his job. Perhaps it was just his nature to be rude and contrary.
After a moment, his expression changed. The lines of irritation bracketing his mouth and weighing on his brow slowly shifted into a reflection of cold determination.
Courtney had no idea what he was thinking. She just wished it would get them off the boardwalk. From the corner of her eye, she could see that they were drawing the attention of passersby. Public scenes were not acceptable. Nor was the fact that she could feel tiny rivulets of sweat running down the back of her neck and beading on her brow. Any longer out here under the direct sun, and her skin would start to pinken.
“Fine,” he said, the word clipped and cold. “I don’t see any choice now. But you’re gonna regret it.”
“I shall be the one to determine any regret I may or may not feel. Now lead the way, Mr.…” She trailed off, expecting him to supply his name.
He didn’t.
Instead, he turned on his heel and started walking away, leaving Courtney with no choice but to follow.
A more uncouth, ill-mannered, infuriating man she had never met.
She managed to catch up to him and maintain her pace beside him, but just barely. The narrow shape of her gown and the weight of the gathered skirts trailing behind her made the swift pace he set difficult. But Courtney was not about to ask him to slow down. The quicker they got to Alexandra, the sooner she would be free of his company.
After passing by several storefronts, he suddenly turned to cross the street. “This way,” he muttered.
Stepping from the boardwalk, he turned back and took her elbow to assist her to the street. It was a common courtesy she would have expected from any gentleman of her prior acquaintance. Yet coming from this man, the simple gesture held an unexpected feeling of significance, despite the scowl he flashed in her direction as he did it. Courtney accepted the warm grip of his hand but couldn’t dismiss the way it made her insides seize with an odd, instinctive disquiet or the way his light-blue eyes made her breath catch despite his less-than-amiable expression.
She expected him to release her once she stepped to
the street, but he kept his large hand in place as they continued to the other side. She noted more openly curious glances from people they passed, and she kept her posture straight and proud while the cowboy ignored them outright.
“Where are we going?” she asked as they stepped up onto the opposite boardwalk and continued walking in long strides.
“To the judge.”
“The judge? Why?”
He kept his hand at her elbow as he tossed her a swift sideways glance. “Now that you’re here, you’re my responsibility.” His tone made it quite clear how he felt about that fact. “If I want to keep you safe, well, it’s best to make it official. It’s what you came here for, isn’t it?”
Courtney hid her confusion and the sudden flash of doubt that burst through her.
What had she come here for?
To start anew. To discover what she was capable of. To find out if there was more to life than following the well-laid plans of her family and society.
To be independent.
If she wished to accomplish any of those, she had to be brave.
Fearless, perhaps.
From the moment she’d leapt from that church window, she’d accepted that her life would never be the same. She did not want it to be the same. Her experiences since leaving Boston had already shown her how little she knew of the world. There was so much to see beyond the privileged, tightly knit society in which she’d lived.
Not lived. Existed. There had been no risk and few decisions that had not been made for her, either by her parents or by the simple dictates of strict social expectation.
She was in a new world out here in Montana Territory. She needed to remember that.
If this cowboy, whom Alexandra had obviously trusted enough to send for her, said they needed to stop to see the judge, then perhaps that is what she needed to do. She was not about to embarrass herself by revealing her ignorance. Her reluctant escort was already irritated enough—she did not want to give him any more reason to eye her with derision.
Maybe they registered newcomers to the area or something. It was not likely to be anything dastardly if the Honorable Judge John Wilkerson was involved, she figured as she noted the name painted on the window of the small wooden building they approached.