by Sara Jolene
Healing the Hooligan
Cowboys and Angels Book 18
Sara Jolene
Copyright © 2018 by Sara Jolene
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
Introduction
Sneak Peek
Also by Sara Jolene
About the Author
Chapter One
The sun was almost down. He’d been waiting what felt like hours, since dinner, to be able to sneak out under the cover of darkness. The night was his friend, almost a partner. Just like the other fellows he worked with. They had an understanding. Mrs. Franklin was a wise woman. He knew getting out without her notice would be difficult, but he also knew she wasn’t the one he was worried about.
The stairs creaked beneath his weight, but without too much fuss, he was soon out the door and into the night, breathing the crisp fall air. It wasn’t so late that only the vagrants and derelicts were out and about, but it was close. He turned quickly off the main street and ducked behind the bank. The smell of freshly cut wood filled his nose, distracting him. He loved that smell. It reminded him of when he was a boy and he would help his father.
“I didn’t know him, but I bet he’d be proud.”
Dutch gasped and stumbled back against the wall as a man he’d seen fall to his death in the streets of New York City popped up beside him.
“H… H… Holden?”
“Yeah, boy, it’s me. I don’t have time to explain.”
Dutch must have given him a look of distrust because Holden narrowed his eyes at him. “Not now, boy. Later. When things aren’t so urgent. For now you’ll have to just trust me. You need to get back on the main road and head behind the mercantile. You’ll know why.”
Dutch wasn’t sure what to do. He was frozen against the wall, confused. His friend looked the same as the last time he’d seen him, well mostly. He was a little less solid if that could even be considered a thing, but other than that, he looked just the same. Just like Kara and Nessa. The girls had both inherited his dark curly hair and angled cheeks.
“You need to go, boy. Now!” Holden took hold of Dutch’s arm, pulling him from the wall. He tossed him back in the direction of the main street. Dutch took a few steps after his former mentor had released his arm. He turned back to ask Holden what he was meant to be doing, but the man had gone. Vanished.
A scream pierced through the night, and Dutch felt it hit him square in the chest. It shot through him and down his spine, spurring his feet to move. He knew right where to go, or Holden had known. Dutch raced down the street and slid as he turned the corner to the back of the mercantile. He briefly wondered how Mortimer and Toria weren’t hearing the commotion, but the thought quickly disappeared when he spotted the source of the scream.
The world completely slipped away. She lit up the night even though she was obviously terrified. They had her backed up against the wall, all three of them surrounding her, taunting her. Occasionally one would reach out and grab at her and she would turn away, only to have another one, closer to where she was, reach out and do the same. Dutch had never seen a more beautiful woman. He wondered why he’d never seen her around town. He stared in awe as she kicked and tried to cover herself, eventually curling as tightly into a ball as she could while still staying on her feet. Suddenly Dutch fell forward. Something that felt very much like strong hands had pushed him from behind. An echo around his head whispered, “Save her, you idiot.”
Dutch turned. He knew that Holden had returned, but when he looked, he wasn’t there. Turning back, he did as he’d been told. Dutch pulled his pistol from its holster. Quick and fast like he’d been practicing. He thrust the gun into the air above his head and fired off a shot, a huge smirk on his face.
That was enough to grab their attention. All three men turned their attention from the girl to him. “What’s it to ya?” The one in front, the biggest one, the one that had instigated the entire thing he was sure, stepped forward, his lackeys falling in step behind him.
Dutch shook his head. “Don’t y’all have something better to do with your time? Harassing a helpless female, really? Can’t you do better?”
The goon in front was mean looking. He had a large scar running down his neck, and one side of his face looked as if someone had held a branding iron to it. Dutch didn’t think it was funny, but chuckled the same. Seemed like this big fella had had a few run-ins in the past.
“How ‘bout ya mind and run off, boy. We’ll handle the rest.”
Dutch looked past the goon and his merry band of hoodlums to where the girl was starting to unfurl from her ball. “Hey, darlin’, you should scatter and you should do it quickly.” He wanted nothing more than to go to her, take her under his care, and return her safely to wherever she’d come from. He was actually worried he’d never see her again, after all, he’d been in Creede for months and had never seen her before, so why would he see her again?
Her eyes connected with his as she straightened fully. They were bright and hit him with a jolt that made him listen for thunder. She nodded and hiked up her skirt before she took off running. Once she was out of sight, he returned his attention the men before him.
“You’re goin’ to regret that, boy.”
The head goon moved at him once again. Dutch still had his gun in his hand and immediately lifted it and pointed it right at him. “How about no, and you three leave town. Tonight.” Dutch made sure to make eye contact with each of the men. “And don’t come back.”
He could see the war raging within the big guy in front of him. One hand he really hated that he was being bullied and intimidated. He was too big and had too bad a reputation to let such a thing stand and yet, Dutch was obviously dangerous and was pointing a gun directly at him. Dutch lowered the gun, albeit slowly, once he saw which side of the goon was winning the argument. The man waved his buddies forward, and they stalked past Dutch without another word.
“I have no desire to get married, Kara. Just because you love it and love your husband doesn’t mean that’s the life for all of us.” Nessa wrapped herself in her shawl and headed for the door. “I like working at the bank. Beth and Byron are very sweet, and I get to talk to people all day.” She tried to offer her sister a reassuring smile. “I promise I’m happy.”
Kara shook her head. “What about Dutch?”
Nessa stopped by the door with her hand on the knob. “What about him?”
It didn’t escape Nessa’s notice that Kara at least had the good sense to look a little timid. “Well, father was pushing for the two of you to marry before he died. Do you think it was a coincidence that he ended up in the same town in Colorado as we did?”
Nessa shook her head and laughed. “Absolutely not. I’m more than sure it wasn’t.”
Kara stood and set her knitting project on the sofa as she stalked over toward the door. “Then why won’t you give him a chance? Marry him. You could be taken care of and happy. He makes a good wage.”
Nessa shook her head at her sister. She pulled the door open. “You know what, Kara, why don’t we have this discussion if he ever asks me? Right now, I’m going to
the bank. I won’t be home for supper.”
More slamming than basic shutting the door behind her, Nessa started down the path to the barn. She’d saddle her horse and head to town. She really loved that she could spend her days in Creede proper and then her nights and mornings at the house on the hill. It was a beautiful place, Colorado. It almost made up for them not being home. New York was a much different place than Creede. It had taken a while for both Kara and Nessa to adapt. Kara’s husband, Aedan, and their old family friend, Dutch, had been a great help to both of them. They’d encouraged them to do things that Western women did, like saddle and ride horses. Back in New York, they rode in carriages and never touched horses.
Thinking of home and horses never took her to a good place though. She tried and failed to stop that thinking in its tracks. Henry. He filled her every thought as she brushed and saddled her mare, the horse’s chestnut mane blowing in the soft autumn breeze. Henry loved horses. He always smelled faintly of grass and horse. It had been a completely intoxicating smell to her. Something so different and unique, she’d never smelled another man that smelled like him. He was the thing she missed most about New York. More often than she cared to think about, she woke from dreams, breathing heavily and frantically waiting for her eyes to adjust to the night because she’d had flashes of both him and her father, both dead, lying in the street in Five Points. She hadn’t seen her father lying in the street, but it hadn’t taken much to imagine it once she’d known the truth.
Her father had been a gangster, and he’d been shot to death in the street like a common criminal. Those nights, she’d picture his long coat splayed out and his hat fallen just to the side of him as his chest leaked his blood into the street. Occasionally, the man’s face would change, and her father would become Henry. She really hated those dreams. She never got back to sleep after.
She finished saddling her horse and walked her out of the barn. She mounted and settled into the saddle, starting off at a gentle walk, but Nessa wasn’t feeling like walking today. She needed something to clear her head. Get the ideas and pictures of her father and Henry out of her head. She gradually encouraged the horse to move faster and faster until they were flying through the fields and over the hills. Before too long, Creede came into view and she slowed the horse to a trot. Riding was good for her, the air not wiping her mind of the negative and scary thoughts, but allowing her to think through them. She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly as she looked over the valley, her sister’s words now prominent in her mind. She could be safe and settled, taken care of…if she married Dutch. Her father had wanted it. He trusted Dutch. He’d been her father’s protégé. He’d taught him everything he’d known.
At one time, Nessa had been on board. She’d even agreed to be Dutch’s wife at some point, even though she was head over heals in love with another. Henry was never far from her thoughts, but he was a stable hand. Her father would never allow it. He had raised his daughters in a certain way of life and had every intention of them remaining there. If she married so far below her station, that would never be possible. But Dutch. Dutch offered exactly the life her father had been looking for his daughters to have, and she’d agreed because she’d never seen another way. She desperately wished she’d told Henry she loved him before she’d left.
Taking one last deep, calming breath, she exhaled and reminded herself that now was different. She had learned and grown a lot since they’d come to Creede. She was no longer that kept girl that was naive and self-centered. She understood things now, and most importantly she didn’t have to marry or any of that nonsense. She could take care of herself.
Chapter Two
Dutch realized it had been too many days since he’d last seen Ab at the mine. They’d been working together on some things since Archie had met his demise. Dutch had sent Ab on an errand, and he’d yet to return. He’d have to send a telegraph to Durango if he didn’t hear from him soon. His boss in New York was waiting, and Pete didn’t like waiting.
Dutch rode up the mountain hoping that Ab would be at the office waiting. He really didn’t want to have to hunt him down. Hunting never turned out well, but there were too many moving parts to this thing and they were too important to let someone that was incompetent ruin it. Ab hadn’t seemed incompetent though. He’d been Dutch’s go-between with the Condon Brothers. Pistol Pete had sent him to Creede to retrieve the Dobbs sisters and thought that while he was there he could solidify their business dealings.
Dutch had made really great progress, but then Archie had died, and he’d had to start all over. He was sort of relieved at the time though. He’d gone to Arthur and had him send word back to New York that there’d been a change in leadership. Pete had responded that he should abandon his first objective and focus on the second.
Dutch enjoyed his time in the morning riding from town up to the shack they called an office for the Bonanza Claim Mine. It was a rocky and rough ride, but it allowed him to think more clearly with his heart already subtly racing. All he’d been able to think about was his journey since he’d arrived in Creede though. He was running through all his memories trying to see if he could spot the girl from the scuffle the night before somewhere, anywhere in the background.
He remembered being very happy to receive word from Pete and know he could leave the girls to their lives. They’d already lost so much, their father and their home. He may not have been excited to marry Nessa, but he did care about her. Her father had wanted them together. Thought that Dutch would be strong enough to protect her, even from herself. Her father had been very worried about that. Dutch had never understood it.
“She was different then.”
Dutch nearly tumbled from his seat atop his horse as the old man popped back into view, walking up the side of the mountain right beside him.
“Do you have to do that? Can’t you warn me or something?”
Holden was chuckling, but he nodded. “That’s all I really come for…to warn you.”
“But you just said something about Nessa.”
“Ya. And? Can’t a man ask after his daughter?” He paused and looked up to the top of the mountain, staring. He stared so long that Dutch started to look for whatever was so interesting.
“Yeah, but…”
Holden cut him off. “None of this matters. I was assigned to you.” He trailed off into a grumble that Dutch could only understand pieces of, “Wife got to… my girls… no sense… Idiot,” before he finished what he’d started telling him. “Anyway… I’m not here about or for them, though I’d appreciate you lookin’ out for them, even if you’re not going to be marrying Ness.”
Dutch wasn’t sure what to say as the old man stared through him. He’d never said he wasn’t going to marry Nessa. He’d promised Holden he would before he died.
“Yeah, I know you did, kid, but the truth is that was for me. Not you and certainly not her. You both have different paths.” He shook his head. “Now, could you shut up for a second? I’ve got somethin’ I’ve got to tell ya.”
Dutch wasn’t sure he was completely following. Holden informing him that he wouldn’t be marrying Nessa had just flipped his world. He’d been promising to marry her for years now. Hadn’t really thought about anyone else to fill that role until… As soon as Holden thought it, the girl from the night before pushed to the forefront of his mind, which then started to wander back to trying to figure out who she was and why he’d not seen her before.
“Boy! Are you even listenin’ to me!”
Dutch shook himself and his head. “No. I’m sorry, I wasn’t but I am now. You said you were here to warn me?”
Holden nodded. “Yes, boy. Later this morning, you’ll hear an odd noise. When that happens, you need to get as many people away from the mine shaft as possible.”
Dutch thought about his words for a moment. “Wouldn’t it be better if I just sent everyone home before I hear the noise?”
Holden shook his head. “No. They’re watching. No one can know
.” He paused and did the staring thing again. “About this or about me. Understand?”
Dutch had so much he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask, but before he had a chance to respond, Holden had vanished once again, leaving Dutch on his own with his intrusive thoughts.
Nessa loved working at the bank. Beth had become one of her dear friends, and Byron was very sweet. The best boss a girl could ask for. He was flexible with their hours, and he had even hired security. She settled into her spot behind the iron-barred window and fished her story out of her bag. They weren’t very busy on some days, so she’d found she had plenty of time to read. It was nice, though she ended up spending far too much having Toria order them for her from New York.
Things had gotten worse in Creede lately. To everyone’s surprise, Archie running things had actually kept away some of the more nefarious folks. A lot about his business dealings had been uncovered, but there were so many drifters and other new men in town, it was hard to keep track of who should be there and who shouldn’t. People were nervous. They rarely went out after dark anymore, the women especially.
They’d all not been very surprised when it had come out that Archie had been buying and selling females for use in various brothels. He had deals with several henchmen and owners. The goons would grab the girls and turn them over to the owners for a fee, Archie ending up on the winning side of all of those transactions.
He’d had legitimate business dealings though too. Nessa had more knowledge of those since she’d been helping Beth and Byron sort through all the information for the town lawyer, Bernard Newell. The mining operations as well as the Golden Nugget were on that list. They’d shuttered the Nugget, and last Nessa had heard, Celeste had taken in the girls that had wanted to try to have different life. She’d been helping them discover their skills and find work. There had been a few that had gotten on the train and headed to Durango though.