Last Promise (22 page)

“Shakespeare?” Jake asked.

“Yep,” Colt answered.

“Maybe Luke should read some Shakespeare,” Jake said.

“Yep.”

“I'm not
sinking
under anything,” Luke informed them. “I don't need to read Shakespeare. I don't want a wife.”

Colt and Jake exchanged a glance, and Jake said, “I think little brother protests too much.”

* * *

“Where have you been?” Hardwicke asked Mary Ann when she returned to the hotel later that day.

“Saying good-bye to friends.”

“If you've been with that man . . . ” Hardwicke started, but Mary Ann interrupted him.

“Father, I've not been with any man!”

“Don't get any ideas about staying with him unless you want to see him in an early grave. Those men who are traveling with me are more than willing to eliminate your friend.” Hardwicke wasn't about to let her ruin everything he'd gone through to take her back to England. George had told him that she cared for that barbarian, but there was no way he would allow his daughter to give herself to such a man. With Stafford she would have everything she would want. She would have a life of privilege, not one of lack. And more importantly, the future of the estates would be secure.

She didn't question her father's candor, she knew he would have no problem removing any problem standing in his way and that included Luke. “I am going back with you; there is no need to concern yourself.”

“Just remember what I said.”

Mary Ann turned her back on him and walked to her shop. While she was disheartened she didn't get to see Luke to say what she held in her heart, she was relieved he was so far away that her father's men wouldn't find him. They would leave in the morning and she wouldn't worry over Luke's safety.

She looked around her shop one last time. Her uncle told her to leave it as it was if she didn't want to pack everything up. George didn't know if he would keep the shop open, but he didn't want her to have additional worries. She thought it would be nice for the ladies in town if he kept it open. Perhaps if Luke saw the shop open, he would think of her occasionally.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The team of horses covered the miles at a pace that didn't seem possible. Mary Ann didn't remember time going by as rapidly when she was traveling to Wyoming. She knew what was waiting for her once she reached England, and all the praying in the world wasn't going to make time stand still. She was wedged between her father and Edmund for hours on end, but fortunately they didn't include her in their conversations. It was the same way her father treated her mother, as if she never said a word that he wanted to hear. Mary Ann didn't care that they didn't converse with her, she had nothing to say to them. Most of the hours were spent with her eyes closed and her mind on one thing: Luke. The stagecoach driver said they would reach the way station in Missouri before dusk. She looked forward to spending the night there since that was where the station keeper's wife, Lillian, taught her to make biscuits. Luke had loved her biscuits. Thinking of the way he'd devoured them made her smile. She wished she was back in Wyoming making lots of biscuits for him.

The stage pulled to a stop and Mary Ann hurried inside without waiting for the men. Lillian greeted her warmly as if they were old friends.

Lillian hugged Mary Ann, delighted to see the young woman again. “Why honey, I didn't expect to see you again.”

“I'm traveling with my father. He came from England to take me home.” Mary Ann didn't hesitate to be truthful with Lillian. She was an older woman with a warm and generous way about her and Mary Ann trusted her from the moment she met her.

Lillian could see the sadness on Mary Ann's face. “Don't you want to go back to England?”

Hardwicke and Stafford chose that moment to walk through the door and Mary Ann didn't respond. She introduced them to Lillian, and while they were polite to her they didn't take time for conversation. The stagecoach driver, the two detectives, and Lillian's husband, Henry, came inside after seeing to the horses. Her father asked Henry to show them to their quarters as though he was staying at the grandest hotel in New York. Mary Ann was surprised Henry didn't laugh, but she heard him explain that the men would be sharing a room for the night. It was a small station, but no other travelers were expected, so Mary Ann would have a little space to herself. Mary Ann helped Lillian prepare the meal and told her how successful her biscuits were in Wyoming. It was a relief for her to have a woman to talk with after the long days in the stagecoach in silence.

“It's such a joy to have you to visit with again,” Lillian told her. “You remind me so much of my daughter.”

“I didn't know you had a daughter. Does she live in Missouri?”

“She died a few years back, but I'd like to think she would be as lovely as you had she lived.”

Mary Ann walked over and put her arms around her. “I'm sorry. With you for a mother I'm sure she would have been wonderful.” Mary Ann had thought a lot about Lillian on her way to Wyoming. She was the first woman who had spent time with her during her journey. She'd been touched by Lillian's generous spirit and how she treated the travelers like long-lost relatives. Her life wasn't an easy one out here in this desolate place, yet she glowed with an inner joy. The dress Lillian was wearing was threadbare like the one she was wearing before, and she had none of the feminine frills women so enjoyed. Even her home was drab, certainly compared to the McBride parlor. There were no handmade pillows in cheery colors, no paintings adorning the walls, and no lamps with beautifully painted globes on the tabletops. The only colorful thing in the room was a handmade quilt made by Lillian's mother. Lillian told her there was not enough money for such extravagances. “I brought you something.” Mary Ann walked to the little room that held her luggage. When she returned to the front room she placed a valise on the table.

“Here you go, open it,” Mary Ann said.

Lillian looked at her quizzically. “The valise?”

Mary Ann opened the valise for her. “Yes, everything in there is for you.”

Tears filled Lillian's eyes as she looked at the contents inside the piece of luggage. “All of this is for me?”

“Yes, when I knew I would be coming back here, I wanted to bring a few things to you.” Mary Ann had purchased items at the mercantile so Lillian would have everything she needed to make a few special things for her home, as well as some cloth to make some new dresses. She'd also packed a bottle of her most expensive perfume.

Lillian's fingers were shaking when she gingerly pulled out each item. By the time she reached the small box that held the perfume, tears were streaming down her cheeks. She pulled out the etched fan-style crystal stopper and sniffed the perfume. “Oh my, this is the loveliest thing I have ever seen. I've never received such a present. It is too much. How can I ever thank you?”

Mary Ann thought about her life in England and how she'd taken such luxuries for granted and she felt ashamed she hadn't appreciated all she had. Just these few items brought Lillian to tears, and to Mary Ann's way of thinking, she was a woman who deserved so much more. “Why, your biscuit recipe alone is worth a small fortune! You should have seen the way Luke . . . the customers at my uncle's hotel gobbled them up. This is the least I could do for you as my uncle will be making a fortune off your biscuits.”

Lillian started to put the bottle back in the box when Mary Ann stopped her. “Now put some behind your ears. Henry will like it, I'm sure.”

Doing as Mary Ann instructed, Lillian laughed. “He'll be thankful to smell something other than horses.” She looked at the beautiful crystal bottle. “I have nothing so magnificent to give you.”

“You can write me letters when I get home and tell me how you cook everything.” Mary Ann thought that would be the greatest gift even though she would probably never again cook a thing once she was married to Stafford.

Lillian's eyes brightened at the thought of having something of value to offer her. “I can do that! I have recipes from my mother and grandmother. They were excellent cooks.”

“That is by far the greatest gift I could ask for.” Mary Ann hugged her again.

“Now tell me about the fella that ate all of those biscuits,” Lillian urged. “Did you say his name was Luke?” She'd caught how Mary Ann's eyes lit up when she said the name.

It didn't surprise Mary Ann that Lillian was so perceptive. Anyone with that much love in her heart took the time to read people. “He's the most handsome man I have ever seen in my life.” Mary Ann told her all about Luke McBride and about everything that happened in Wyoming. She didn't stop until her father and Edmund strolled into the room an hour later.

They all sat around the table enjoying the modest meal of stew and biscuits. Mary Ann was pleased that her father had the good manners to compliment the simple meal. Mary Ann and Lillian chatted about women's fashion while the men discussed horses. The dinner ended and Mary Ann and Lillian were clearing the table when Henry jumped and said, “Riders.”

Henry and the stagecoach driver walked to the door to see who was arriving unexpectedly.

Three men reined in at the corral and tied their horses off before walking to the house.

“Hello to the house,” one man said.

“Come ahead,” Henry replied.

“Thanks. We were wondering if we could pay for a meal and some shelter for the night.”

Henry didn't like the looks of the threesome. “We can offer a meal, but we're full up for the night.”

“We can bunk in the stable.”

Henry didn't think that would present a problem, he'd just have to sleep with one eye open, so he agreed to that arrangement.

When the three men sat at the table, Lillian saw how they were looking at Mary Ann, and she whispered to her to stay away from the table.

Hardwicke and Stafford paid little attention to the newcomers, they continued discussing the merits of different breeds of horses.

Mary Ann glanced at the men as she washed the dishes. All of them were filthy as if they'd been riding the trail for months without the benefit of a bath. One man was big and tall and there was something about him that made her feel like she was looking into the face of evil. The other two men kept glancing around as though they expected someone to appear from the other rooms. They shoveled their food in their mouths like they hadn't eaten in months.

“Is this all the boarders tonight, old man?” The big man was the one who directed the question to Henry.

“I'm expecting more people in a bit. There's another stage that will be stopping.” Henry wasn't about to tell these hombres the truth.

“I didn't know there was another stage through here,” the man retorted.

Henry didn't contradict himself. “You been through here before? I don't recall seeing you.”

“No, this is new territory to us.”

“Where you headed?”

“You ask too many questions, old man.” The big man shoved his plate of food aside and stood. The other two men followed his lead. Suddenly, the big man grabbed Lillian as she reached for the plates. He pulled her in front of him and pulled his pistol and held it to her head. His companions immediately pulled their pistols. The stagecoach driver reached for his pistol, but the big man shot it out of his hand.

“What's this?” Henry shouted. His eyes darted to his rifle over the fireplace.

“Don't do it unless you want a dead woman.” The big man pointed to Hardwicke with the barrel of his pistol. “Empty your pockets and put it on the table.” He looked at Stafford and the two detectives. “You too.”

“We don't have money here, mister,” Henry told him.

The big man pointed to Hardwicke again. “I bet this old codger has enough to last us a while.” He gave Hardwicke a fierce look. “All of you better do it quick or she gets popped.”

Stafford took out his pocket watch and put it on the table, but Hardwicke made no move to follow his lead.

The big man glared at Hardwicke. “Put your money on the table too, or do you need some encouragement?”

Speaking to one of his men, he inclined his head toward Mary Ann. “Go get her. I have a feeling that they need to see we mean business.”

The man grabbed Mary Ann and pulled her across the room until she was standing in front of the big man.

The big man eyed her up and down. “Let me see that pin you're wearing.”

Mary Ann's hand automatically went to the cameo at the top of her dress. It had been a gift from her grandmother.

“Take it off.” He gave her a lecherous grin. “Unless you want me to do it for you.”

“Leave her alone,” Lillian said.

“Don't worry, old woman, we won't ignore you.” The big man reached out with one hand to take the cameo from Mary Ann's neck and Lillian slapped his hand away. He shoved Lillian so hard she stumbled and fell to the floor.

“You son of Satan!” Henry started to move to his wife when one of the other men put a gun to his head.

“You people ain't moving fast enough, so this is your fault.” The big man directed the barrel of his pistol toward Lillian and Mary Ann thought he was going to pull the trigger. She remembered the man who was going to shoot Luke in the back. This man was going to kill Lillian for no reason. She pulled away from the man holding her and covered Lillian with her body in an effort to shield her just as the gun exploded. The shot stunned everyone, even the man who pulled the trigger. Mary Ann's body went limp. Henry was the only one to maintain his wits and moved quickly to grab the pistol the stagecoach driver had dropped on the floor. Seeing what Henry was doing spurred the detectives into action. They pulled their guns and started shooting. The three robbers ran for the door as bullets started flying in all directions. Hardwicke and Stafford dived for cover behind the table. Henry winged the big man in the shoulder as he disappeared through the front door, but the other shots missed their targets. When Henry ran out of bullets, he ran to get his rifle above the fireplace and headed for the door. The three men were already in their saddles and riding away. Taking careful aim, Henry pulled the trigger. One man fell out of the saddle, but the other two men didn't stop, they hightailed it out of there. The detectives ran to the man on the ground. They wanted to make sure he was dead.

Lillian was already tending to Mary Ann and shouting instructions. She pointed to Stafford and shouted, “Help me carry her to bed!” Hardwicke followed behind them.

Once they got Mary Ann on the bed, Lillian cut her dress down the back to see where the bullet entered.

“Where's the nearest doctor?” Hardwicke asked.

“Clive is not a doctor, but he's as good as any doctor at tending serious injuries. He's about seven miles one way.”

Henry came into the room with the boiling water. “How bad is it?”

“I'm not sure, the bullet went in at an angle. Let's pray to the Good Lord that it hit nothing vital, but it needs to come out.”

“I'll go get Clive,” Henry told his wife.

“I think that is a good idea. Bring whiskey if he has it.”

“I have some whiskey in one of my valises,” Stafford said.

“Good. I'll clean the wound with it and if she comes around we will give her some for the pain,” Lillian told him.

Once Lillian had Mary Ann's wound cleaned and the bleeding stopped, she went to check on the stagecoach driver. Fortunately for him the bullet had just grazed his hand and caused no real damage. She had the whiskey with her and poured him a stiff drink and situated him on a cot to get comfortable.

The detectives sat in the front room with their guns at the ready in the event more trouble arrived that night.