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He’d beenin and out of consciousness for five days already and it took another week to get enough strength back to walk to the outhouse by himself. By nightfall, Aaron had dressed and picked up his boots, intending to put them on once he was outside but Ben’s voice startled him before he could make it two steps away from the bed he’d been laid up in.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Aaron froze, the curtain hiding his bed from the rest of the room held back by one hand. He looked over his shoulder. Ben was sitting up in the small cot he’d been sleeping in. “Nowhere.”
Ben stood. “Stop lying to me, Aaron. I can always tell when you are.” He looked him over, taking in his clothes and the boots in his hand. “It’s the middle of the night. Where can you possibly be going at this hour?”
Aaron let the curtain fall and set his boots on the floor, then stepped into them. When he stood to his full height, he looked Ben in the eye. “I’m going to get Betsey and my son back.”
Ben stared at him for long minutes without saying a word. He imagined half a dozen things Ben would say by the time he opened his mouth to speak but hearing his friend say, “Let me get dressed,” wasn’t one of them.
Aaron waited, even though he was reluctant to do so. Every minute that ticked by was one more minute Betsey was alone with Harrison McBride. His imagination had played every vile thing he could think of that that man could do to her inside his head so many times he was ready to lose his mind. He couldn’t lay in that bed another minute and not do—something.
When Ben was dressed, he headed across the room and pushed back the curtain. “Let me leave Evan a note. I’ll need someone to tend to my animals while we’re gone.”
“I don’t need you tagging along playing nursemaid.”
“Really?” Ben shoved the palm of his hand into his shoulder.Pain strong enough to make his stomach rebel and his knees go weak had him biting his tongue to keep from screaming.
He watched as Ben wrote the note and left it on Evan’s desk before they slipped out unheard. “Is your horse stabled in the livery?”
“Yes. You’ll have to borrow one of Percy’s unless you want to head back to my place to grab yours.”
“No, I want to be in Missoula by the time the sun comes up and on our way to the nearest train depot by noon. Percy has a stash of money in the back room in case feed comes in and he’s not there to pay for it. It should be more than enough to get us on the next train heading to California.”
“What about your folks?”
“I’ll leave a note with Percy. He’ll get it to them.”
They crossed town to the livery stable, the calm stillness around them making it seem as if someone or something was going to jump out at them at any moment. He couldn’t ever remember a time he’d been in town and not seen a single soul.
The doors on the stable opened with a loud creak, the horses stirring as they entered. The light was dim but after a few minutes, their eyes adjusted enough to see. Ben gathered an extra saddle and carried it to the stall his horse was bedded down in while he hurried to the small room Percy conducted his business from. He lit the lamp on the desk and wrote a short note, explaining what was going on and to let Noah and his ma know and to tell them he’d send a telegraph the moment they made it to California. He also apologized for taking his money and horse and told him he’d pay him back with interest the moment he returned.
Extinguishing the lamp, he found Ben at the stable doors, Ben’s horse saddled and an extra for him saddled and ready to go. He shut the stable door and took the horse’s reins from Ben, wincing as he tried to climb into the saddle. It took four tries toclimb up, sweat coating his forehead as he finally settled. He couldn’t ever remember feeling so weak. Had he not been, he would have tried to get Ben to stay but he knew he was in no shape to take on Harrison McBride alone. If things got as ugly as he suspected they would, he’d need every bit of help he could get.
Chapter Eighteen
Her silk skirtmade a soft rustling of noise as she crossed the room. The maid waiting for her inside her dressing chamber went straight to work helping her remove it. When Betsey sat down at the elegant dressing table and looked at herself in the mirror, the same dull ache she felt every time she saw herself returned.
Agnes started pulling the pins from her hair, laying them in the silver bowl by her elbow. The woman rarely spoke and when she did, she did so in such a way Betsey always felt below the maid’s station.
She stared at her in the mirror until she caught her eye. “Will Harrison be coming by?”
“I do not know.” She tugged Betsey’s head to the left and pulled the last of the pins out, the curls Agnes had spent close to an hour putting in her hair falling down her back.
Her hair was brushed and braided and she was helped into a dressing gown, her bed turned down and a late supper set on the small table by the window before the woman left.
And locked her in.
Betsey looked around the room. Harrison had been true to hisword. He’d given her everything her heart had desired when she’d signed that contract.
A big beautiful house with a room done up in bold colors and a bed so big she could get lost in it.
Fine dresses that would rival any she’d ever seen before.
A host of servants paid to do nothing but see to her needs.
And more money than she’d ever know what to do with.
