The Salvation 0f A Runaway Bride (Historical Western Romance)

by Cassidy Hanton

  “Arizona,” he replied.

  “Oh really, I’m from Arizona as well. Tucson,” Laura offered.

  He looked at her with a smile.

  “Oh, I know miss. So’s your fiancé.”

  Laura stared at him, stunned.

  “How do you know…” she stammered.

  He just chuckled and began to pick his teeth again with his knife.

  “Have you been following me?” Laura asked.

  He just continued to stare. Laura felt her skin begin to crawl. He leaned in closer to her.

  “You trying to get to know me better, miss?” he asked, with a sickening grin.

  Oh God, what do I do?

  She clenched her hands together to hide the shake in them. She took a deep breath and looked him square in the eye.

  “I’m more just interested in how one pulls off such elaborate crimes.”

  He let out a laugh that sent tiny particles of meat flying into the air.

  “Oh yeah? You think this is elaborate?” He snorted. “I once tracked down three smugglers across four states. Owed me for some services I did for them. Buried one alive and strung up the other two for the sheriff to find. Got away clean as a new penny.”

  “How?”

  “You gotta know your man. Gotta know what he wants. Keep a low profile, blend in, then hit him where it hurts the most. Gets ‘em every time. Men’ll do stupid things to get what they want,” he bragged as he sat back and lit up a cigar.

  So, am I what someone wants? What Jacob wants? Or…Abe? No, there’s no way Abe would be tangled up with this kind of a creature.

  “So, I’m what hurts the most for…?” Laura said, trying to lead him to an answer. He just snorted under his breath.

  Fine then.

  “So Harry, once my family pays the ransom and you send me on my way, what’s next for you?” Laura asked.

  “Oh, I’m sure some business will crop up. But don’t you worry, I’ll be long gone from here before any of you can get the sheriff to track me down,” Harry said with a smile.

  “I had no doubt of that,” Laura said.

  Why did he let me see his face though?

  “Just remember, Miss, if this doesn’t go down nice and clean and you get any ideas about sending the Sheriff after me, just remember how easily I was able to track you down. Don’t think I can’t again,” Harry said, with a scowl.

  Quite confident.

  “Well this has just been a lovely dinner conversation,” Laura sighed.

  “Ain’t bad from where I’m sitting,” Harry grinned.

  I don’t know what I’m doing, there’s no speaking with this animal.

  An owl hooted from the rafters, as Laura ate the last of the rabbit in silence, trying to piece together what little she had gotten from Harry. Inevitably, her mind wandered back to Aunt Ethel’s porch, sipping iced tea, with her hands dirtied from the garden, watching Abe hang shutters or fix the warped wooden steps. The smell of the flowers were at the forefront of her memory.

  Harry sat back and lit another cigar. He took a big puff and let the smoky cloud out slowly, the thick smell of tobacco drowning out even the smells in Laura’s memory. Laura coughed, as it hit her lungs.

  “Nice ain’t it?” Harry said. “Got these off one of the smugglers I ran down. Had a whole case of ‘em. Smooth taste and make me feel like a real gentleman.”

  “I’ve never understood men’s fascination with cigars,” Laura replied.

  “Oh, Miss, ain’t nothing like a nice glass of whiskey, a good cigar, and a card table surrounded by terrible gamblers,” Harry said gleefully.

  “Wouldn’t you rather be there right now instead of spending your precious time on this earth watching me?” She lifted her bound wrists. “Not like I’m going anywhere.”

  “Oh, you think you’re a clever one. No, Miss, I’m staying here till the job is done,” Harry said gruffly.

  “You know, my family is going to look for me, no matter what you may have written telling them not to,” Laura said defiantly.

  “Oh, I know, but see, I’m very good at what I do, and I know there ain’t no way they’re going to find us. So you can hold out hope all you want, only thing that’s gonna save you is cash.” And with that, he stood up and headed out of the stall, a trail of cigar smoke following him.

  Laura leaned back with a sigh.

  Well, that went well.

  She stared into the waning strips of light that were rapidly receding across the floor. Her legs and back ached but at least the gnawing in her stomach had quieted. A little field mouse scurried across the floor and burrowed itself in a pile of hay.

  In one of the beams of light, Laura saw something unusual. A folded piece of paper where Harry had been sitting. She reached over and grabbed it. She carefully unfolded it, revealing an old telegram. As she read it, her hand flew up to her mouth.

  Oh my god. It’s worse than I thought.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Abe sat by the fireplace in his house, his brow furrowed as he studied the object in his hand. He ran his fingers over the cigar band again and again.

  Who would smoke something like this? I’ve never seen a brand this nice.

  He looked at the clock. It seemed like time was ticking away for Laura. And they were no closer than when they started. Every lead went nowhere, and Abe couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something right in front of their faces that they were missing.

  No progress, no plan. Ottie’s no help, I think he’s in over his head. He liked to solve puzzles when we were young, but this is so much bigger.

  He stood up and began to pace.

  There has to be something. Something we’ve missed. Something else we can do.

  He kept pacing and thinking, pacing and thinking. The cigar band still circling in his fingers. Frustrated, he stepped outside.

  The night was cold and clear. The chill was biting but Abe couldn’t feel it. He walked over to the barn.

  When he got inside, Bruce was laying lazily in his stall. He snorted peacefully in his sleep, not stirring when Abe walked in. Abe walked over and looked at him.

  His mind drifted back to Laura and him in the barn that night. Her hand on Bruce’s nose. The way she was so calm, so graceful.

  Wait, there was something else that night.

  His mind flickered back to the strange shape of the hay in the empty stall. He rushed over to the stall and stepped inside. There was the strange depression in the hay, so similar to the one in the loft at Mr. O’Leary’s place. He began to sift through the hay, searching for what, he wasn’t even sure. Suddenly, a tiny glint of gold. He reached for it and pulled out an identical cigar band to the one they found in the hayloft.

  He was following her. He followed her all the way here.

  Abe felt his blood run cold and his muscles clench.

  There’s something else going on here. Who would follow her before kidnapping her? And why?

  He pocketed the cigar band, and continued to search his mind for answers.

  I believe I owe her fiancé another visit.

  He stood up and let himself out of the stall. He walked over to Bruce who was still sleeping quietly, with the occasional snorts marking his dreams. As if he sensed his presence, Bruce stirred from his sleep and looked up at Abe.

  “Wish I could sleep like you boy,” Abe said to him as he reached down and patted his nose. Bruce happily nickered at him, as his eyes began to droop again.

  Abe strode back toward the house, his mind still trying to wrap around what he had just discovered. He sat down by the fire, too restless to sleep.

  Images of Laura continued to run through his mind, torturing him. She was slipping away and he could not let that happen.

  * * *

  The next morning, he and Bruce rode back out to Aunt Ethel’s house, this time without Ottie.

  When he knocked on the door, Aunt Ethel answered.

  “Abe! Do you have news?” she asked with hope in her eyes.
<
br />   Abe shook his head. “Nothing we’re sure of yet. Is Mr. Fisher here?”

  “I’m afraid not, haven’t seen him yet today. But please, come in for some coffee.” Aunt Ethel gestured for him to come inside. Abe obliged and stepped in. It was quieter than the house had been in some time.

  “Just you here?” he asked.

  “Yes, Dorothy and Xavier went into town to pick up a few things and I think to get their minds off this whole business for a moment. They seem quite distressed with trying to come up with the ransom money,” she said.

  “Well, I’m sure Mr. Fisher will have that covered.” Abe grunted, as she handed him a cup of hot coffee.

  “I certainly hope so.” Aunt Ethel seemed distant. “I don’t know about that man though. Somethings not quite right, if you ask me.”

  “Well, I believe folks know how I feel about him by now.” Abe chuckled.

  “Yes, I believe you’ve made your position very clear, Abe. Can’t say I agree with how you’ve gone about all that.” Aunt Ethel had a softly scolding tone in her voice that hit Abe in the heart. He loved her like his own family. But he steeled himself.

  “I ain’t going to apologize for what I did. If you heard the things he’d been saying, you’d understand,” Abe said flatly.

  “Oh?” she looked at him quizzically.

  Abe sipped his coffee silently, pretending to not notice her desire for more information.

  “Abe, I know you love her,” Aunt Ethel said, staring straight into his eyes. “Don’t think for a second I didn’t see how you two were looking at each other. Reminded me of my husband and I when we were young.”

  Abe continued to drink in silence. Aunt Ethel leaned back in her chair and rubbed her temple.

  “I don’t know how this could have happened, Abe. This awful kidnapping makes no sense to me.”

  “I know,” Abe said.

  His eyes fell on the table. One of the first things he had fixed.

  “I’ll find her. I have to,” he said.

  “I hope so. I don’t know if we’ll be able to come up with the ransom money in time.” Aunt Ethel rung her hands over and over as she spoke.

  Abe stood up. “Thank you for the coffee, I should get back to things,” he said to Aunt Ethel. He strode back outside and hopped up on Bruce’s back, who breezed them back to his ranch.

  He headed inside and looked around with a sigh. He walked over to a small iron safe in the corner. He spun the lock slowly, each number resulting in a satisfying click inside, until the door swung free.

  Inside were bound bills. He grabbed a stack and ran his thumb across the bills.

  It’s enough. It should be at least.

  He hoped it wouldn’t come down to it.

  I think it’s time for me to speak to Mr. Fisher.

  * * *

  Abe and Bruce rode up to the hotel. Abe stepped inside, where he was greeted by the desk clerk.

  “Morning Abe, what can I do for ya?” he asked.

  “Morning Bennet, is Mr. Fisher in?”

  “He just stepped out, actually, I believe he was on his way over to the saloon if he’s up to his usual. He’s been seemin’ agitated for a bit now,” John replied.

  “Thanks Bennet. How’s things been ‘round here?” Abe replied.

  “Oh, business is good. Lots of people coming into town to visit family for the big Jubilee! Been full-up since Friday,” John said with a smile.

  “Good to hear it. Say, have you seen any strange characters around?”

  Abe asked.

  Bennet thought for a moment. “No, no, none that I can think of. Why do you ask?”

  “Mr. Leary’s man went missing a few days back, wondering if he may have tried to let a room for the night.”

  “Oh, hold on let me look at the ledger.” Bennet scanned his finger down the page. “No, only folks checked in, the last few days, have been some couples.”

  “Okay, thanks Bennet.” With that, Abe strode out of the hotel and headed to the saloon. As the doors swung open, Charlie greeted him with a smile.

  “Abe! Good to see you, your usual?”

  “Sure, thanks. Say, Mr. Fisher around here anywhere?” Abe asked.

  Charlie gestured toward one of the tables, as he handed Abe his drink, where Jacob was engaging in his usual drink and cards, his back to Abe.

  “Thanks,” Abe replied.

  He strode over toward the table. A few of the men silently noticed him but remained deep in their game. Abe stopped just behind Jacob.

  Abe cleared his throat. “Mr. Fisher, could I have a word?”

  Jacob jumped slightly and turned around to look at Abe.

  “What are you doing here?” Jacob asked with disdain. “Don’t you need to be out running around with your Sheriff buddy getting absolutely nowhere in finding my bride?”

  Abe felt his fist begin to clench but restrained himself.

  “I’d like to ask you a few questions about something that might help us get closer to finding her,” Abe said.

  “Well, then pull up a chair, I’m not going anywhere alone with you after last time we were in here together.” Jacob scoffed, as he motioned to one of the empty chairs at the table.

  Abe reluctantly took a seat.

  “Alright, deal me in then,” Abe said.

  The cards were shuffled around and dealt out. Abe grabbed his hand and his eyes scanned the table. Across from him was Jacob, who scowled at Abe over his cards. Next to Jacob was a scruffy miner, who was puffing away on what smelled like the cheap, stale cigars that were mostly favored around town.

  The man to Abe’s right, however, was a smartly dressed businessman. He was puffing away on a fat cigar with a shiny band.

  “Nice smoke,” Abe said.

  “Thank you. Brought this with me all the way from New York,” the man replied.

  “Long way, what are you in town for?” Abe asked.

  “Traveling salesman. Just passing through,” he said.

  “So, you’ve been around a lot of places then?” Abe asked, as he pulled the cigar band out of his pocket. “Ever seen this kind of cigar before?”

  The man took the band and studied it closely.

  “Oh, yeah, this is nice. Very nice. Don’t see this very often around towns like these,” he said.

  “Is this why you decided to harass me again? To begin a hobby out of fine cigar collecting?” Jacob growled.

  Abe ignored him and pressed on. “Where would one usually purchase these?”

  “Oh, you won’t find this in a store. These are only brought over in smugglers crates. Black market kind of thing.” The man chuckled. “Where’d you get your hands on that?”

  Abe looked over at Jacob. “Oh, just found it lying around, seemed strange.”

  Jacob looked at him puzzled. He motioned to the businessman. “Let me see that.”

  He handed it over to Jacob, who took a long look at the band. “Smugglers, huh?” he asked.

  “Yeah, that was not imported legally. But collectors love them, so there’s a good black market for ‘em,” The businessman responded.

  Jacob’s face had gone paler.

  “You alright there, Mr. Fisher?” Abe asked.

  “Fine, I’m fine,” Jacob said briskly. “Where’d you find this, Abe?”

  “Over at the livery. It seems that Mr. Leary’s man, who disappeared a few days back, fancied the finer things in life,” Abe replied, watching Jacob closely.

  “Strange. Wonder where a hired man got a hold of something like that. Here, take it,” he handed it back to Abe.

  Was that a shake in his hand?

  “Gentlemen, shall we get back to the game at hand? Or are we all going to sit around and discuss discarded cigar bands?” Jacob asked, clearing his throat.

  “Actually, I better get back to things. Thanks for the help gentlemen,” Abe said, tipping his hat to the table. He stood up and stepped over to the bar. He put a coin down and looked Charlie in the eye.

  “Keep an eye on h
im for me, will ya?” Abe said, gesturing to Jacob.

  Charlie laughed. “Oh, I already do.”

  Abe headed out the door and strode over to the jailhouse. Ottie was sitting behind the desk, staring at the ransom note with his fingers on his temple. He didn’t even look up when Abe walked in.