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  They chatted companionably all the way to Becky’s door, where Ox took his leave with an admonishment not to worry about Swede.

  Once again, Becky undressed for bed, this time vowing to force Garrick to talk. Tomorrow they would discuss his plans, whether he wanted to or not.

  But her carefully laid strategy came to nothing. Early the next morning, a young man came to the door with a note from Garrick. Though Becky wasn’t completely sure she’d understood everything he’d written, one thing was frighteningly clear. Garrick had left town with Ox Bruford.

  Chapter 13

  “Cheer up,” Angel said. “Swede will be back any day now.”

  Becky looked up from her sewing. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Ox comes through about every three weeks.”

  “That doesn’t mean my husband will be with him.”

  “He will.” It wasn’t the first time during the last two and a half weeks that Angel had wished Swede was there so she could kick his backside. Unless she missed her guess, Becky’s time was near. If Swede wasn’t back when that baby was born, she’d never forgive him, even if his wife did. “Let’s do your cooking lesson a little early today. I have a few things I need to do later.”

  “All right.” Becky obediently put her sewing aside, though it was obvious she took no joy in the prospect.

  Angel was halfway through her explanation of making sour dough pancakes when she suddenly threw her spoon down in disgust. “Oh, for pity’s sake, Becky. He’s coming back.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “The hell I don’t. Get your coat. I have something to show you. It really isn’t my place, and I hate meddlers, but this has gone far enough.

  Becky had no idea what Angel was talking about as she followed her friend outside. Within moments, they left Beer Garden Gulch behind and headed toward the middle of town. Angel turned at the meat market and continued on past the jail to the intersection of Grant and Price Street. There she stopped and pointed to a large building.

  “That’s the reason I know Swede is coming back.”

  Becky gave her a bewildered look. “I don’t understand.”

  “He bought it from Philip Harsh. They had to get the deed signed over before Swede and Ox left town. That’s why he didn’t have time to come tell you good-bye before he left. Nobody as tight with a dollar as Swede would spend that kind of money and then walk away.”

  Becky looked up at the structure uncertainly. The raw lumber gave the building a new, unfinished look. There was no clue as to what its intended purpose might be. “Did he tell you what he was going to do with it?”

  “No. In fact, he seemed kind of reluctant to talk about it.”

  Becky bit her lip. Maybe Garrick hadn’t told Angel because he was planning on going into competition with her. The note had said he was going to buy equipment. This building was certainly big enough for a casino.

  “Satisfied?” Angel asked with a smile.

  Becky nodded, unwilling to insult her friend by voicing her fears. What had she done with her childish complaining?

  “Then let’s—”

  “Miss Angel. Thank God I found you,” Molly said as she came running up behind them. “Indians... Fort Bourbon...we’ve got to go right now.”

  “Whoa now, Molly, what are you talking about?”

  “They found the Sherman boy just outside of town, with an arrow through him,” Molly said as she tugged on Angel’s arm, trying to get her to move down the street. “Some of the men who aren’t in the mines are going out to get the soldiers at Fort Stambaugh; the rest are going to stay and guard town.”

  “Are the Indians on the warpath?”

  “Nobody knows, but the women are supposed to go to Fort Bourbon until it’s safe.”

  “Where are the other girls?”

  “They’re already over there. Sam sent me to get you two.”

  “Fort Bourbon,” Becky asked in confusion. “Where’s that?”

  “It’s where they store extra supplies and liquor. The whole thing is underground, so it can’t freeze, and there’s only one door in,” Angel said. “We’ll be safe from the Indians there. Molly, grab Becky’s other arm, and let’s go.”

  With Molly on one side of Becky and Angel on the other, they headed toward Main Street. Long past the stage where running was easy, Becky was grateful for their assistance as they hurried along. By the time they reached South Pass City’s communal storage facility on Main Street, Becky felt like she’d run a mile, though it was only three blocks.

  As they entered the stronghold, Angel stepped away from her side. “Remember, you came in by yourself,” she said in a low voice.

  Before Becky had a chance to protest, she found herself propelled forward. She barely had time to take note of the barrels and crates stacked along the dirt walls before she passed through a doorway set in a three-foot thick rock wall. It was so low she had to duck slightly to get inside.

  The inner chamber was already full of frightened women and children. Unlike the outer room which resembled a root cellar, the walls here were made of brick. Three log supports were placed at intervals down the middle of the room, dividing the women within into two distinct groups.

  Becky instinctively moved toward the larger group where she saw the girls from The Green Garter. She had only taken two steps in that direction when Angel gave her a push toward the small cluster of women and children huddled near the crates of whiskey and bourbon.

  “Don’t be a damned fool,” Angel hissed in her ear, “Get over there where you belong.”

  With a flash of embarrassment, Becky suddenly realized why the women had segregated themselves when she received several indignant glares from the ‘decent’ women of South Pass City. She pulled her coat as far around herself as she could, her steps faltering doubtfully. Just as she was thinking she’d rather take her chances with the soiled doves on the other side, a strident voice rang out in welcome.

  “Mrs. Swenson, do join us. I hear that husband of yours is something of a hero nowadays. You must be very proud of him.” The large gray-haired woman looked vaguely familiar, and Becky smiled uncertainly.

  “Yes...yes, I am.”

  “I haven’t seen you since the wedding. How have you been faring?”

  “Pretty well.” Becky suddenly realized it was Esther Morris, the Justice of the Peace who had performed their wedding ceremony.

  “Excellent. Come, let me introduce you to some of your neighbors.”

  With Esther Morris’s stamp of approval, the other women thawed immediately, and Becky soon found herself surrounded by the handful of hardy women who had followed their husbands to the mining camp.

  Sam from The Green Garter appeared in the doorway. “Is everybody here?”

  “Everyone from our part of town,” Angel said. “Don’t know about the others.”

  “I believe we’re all accounted for as well,” Esther Morris answered firmly. “You may as well shut us in.”

  Sam nodded. “All right then. Hans and I will be standing guard right outside, but I’ll leave a shotgun for you just in case.”

  He started to swing the heavy metal door shut.

  “No...no, wait. Don’t close the door. Dear Lord, I can’t do this. I just can’t!” A hysterical sob rose from the back of the room. “I’d rather take my chances with the Indians.”

  Though the speaker didn’t look much older than Becky, a toddler clung to her skirts, and she held an infant in her arms. Her pasty white face was filled with terror as she stared at the heavy metal door Sam was about to close.

  “Marcia, pull yourself together,” Esther Morris said sharply. “This is no time for panic.”

  “I can’t help it,” she whimpered. “I can’t stand to be closed in like this. Let me go outside with the guards.”

  “What about your babies?”

  “I...I don’t know.”

  Becky recognized the woman’s fear. One of her father’s mistresses had been similarly afflicted
. There had been times when even being closed in by the flimsy walls of the tent had disturbed her. “It’s all right. You can go outside,” Becky said to her, “I’ll watch your little ones for you.”

  The woman stared at her for a moment then nodded. Apparently reassured by Becky’s own impending motherhood, she placed the baby in her arms and knelt down next to the little boy. “Zachariah, I want you and Johnny to stay with this lady.”

  The little boy took his fingers out of his mouth. “Papa come?”

  “No, no, Papa left with the other men. Everything’s going to be fine. Mama’s going to be right outside. Will you be a good boy for me?”

  The youngster stuck his fingers back in his mouth and nodded solemnly.

  She gave him a hug, then stood back up and faced Becky. “I’m sorry, I just...”

  Becky smiled reassuringly. “I understand. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of them.”

  The woman smiled tremulously, touched the baby once more, then hurried out.

  Sam swung the three-inch thick door closed with a clang. When they heard the sound of the heavy bar on the outside being dropped into place, more than one woman wondered uneasily if Marcia hadn’t had the right idea after all.

  Time passed slowly. Though Becky knew very little about taking care of children, she didn’t have to worry. The other women all took turns holding the baby. Little Zachariah, mindful of his mother’s instructions, clung to Becky like lichen to a rock.

  Far from being uncomfortable with the situation, Becky found she rather liked it. Holding the little boy on her lap, she told him all the stories she could remember from her childhood. When he started to nod off, she made him a bed on the floor out of her coat.

  With the baby nestled against her breast and Zachariah sleeping by her side, she felt a deep contentment. Glancing down at the infant in her arms, she smiled. Soon she’d have one of her own. The piles of baby clothes were stacked in readiness next to the beautiful cradle Garrick had made. Becky had thought her heart would burst from pleasure when he’d given it to her. It would last through all the babies they would have together, boys with flaxen hair and girls with aqua eyes.

  It was only a short hop from the thought of children to contemplation of how the little darlings were created. Surely after the baby was born Garrick would finally demand his husbandly rights. Daydreaming about Garrick making passionate love to her was much more pleasant to think of than worrying about him becoming a professional gambler or wondering if he’d left forever the way Cameron had. She was soon lost in a fantasy that made her quite warm in spite of the slight chill of the underground cellar.

  “What was that?” someone asked suddenly. Instantly, every voice was still as they all strained to listen.

  The unmistakable sound of gunfire echoed beyond the thick metal door, then they heard a woman’s panicked scream.

  “Oh God, we’re going to die!” A voice inside the room rose shrilly in the stillness, followed by a sharp slap and the sound of sobbing.

  “Shut up, Collette. We don’t have time for that now.” Angel strode forward. “Where the hell is that shotgun? No damned savage is going to take me without a fight. Everybody grab something to use for a club, the stouter the better.”

  “She’s right, ladies,” Esther Morris said, picking up an ax handle. “We’d best move all the children clear to the back where they’ll be the safest. Mrs. Swenson, if you could stay with them...”

  Trying not to think about what must have happened to the mother of the two boys, Becky laid the sleeping baby on the floor behind the crates of whiskey and went back after Zachariah. Though she knew her advanced pregnancy would make her more of a liability than an asset, Becky felt cowardly hiding with the seven children as the other women gathered behind Angel and Esther Morris. She looked around for a weapon, but everything that could be wielded easily had already been picked up. At last, she pulled a bottle of whiskey from one of the crates. It would make a good club the way it was, and broken it could be truly lethal.

  Collette was no longer the only one crying as they heard the metal bar on the outside of the door being lifted.

  “All right, you heathen bastards,” Angel said, raising the shotgun to her shoulder and cocking both barrels, “we’re ready for you!”

  Chapter 14

  Everyone held their breath. Even the sobbing stopped as the thick metal door swung open. “You just hit the end of the trail,” Angel snarled as she pulled the first trigger.

  “Jesus, Angel,” Ox Bruford said, knocking the shotgun aside a second before it fired. “What are you trying to do?”

  “Ox!”

  After a glance at the hole the shotgun had blasted in the brick wall, he reached down and took the gun from her grasp. “Give me that before somebody gets hurt! Good Lord, but you women are jumpy today.”

  “Jumpy!” Angel put her hands on her hips. “I suppose you have some good excuse for all that shooting out there.”

  “It was a signal to let the others know everything’s secure here. Half the soldiers from Fort Stambaugh went south looking for the Indians that killed the Sherman boy. The rest came here then headed north as soon as we found the town safe.”

  “I trust that means we can leave then, Mr. Bruford?” Esther Morris’s imperious voice came from behind Angel.

  “Yes ma’am. In fact, that’s what I was coming to tell you.”

  “Good. Thank you.”

  “So, what was all that screaming?” Angel asked.

  Becky was unable to hear the rest of their conversation as they stepped outside and allowed the women to leave the cellar. Becky stayed and waited for all the children to be reclaimed by their mothers. At last only Johnny and Zachariah remained. Unable to carry both children, who were still asleep, Becky sank to the floor next to them in a miserable heap.

  Ox Bruford had returned, and Garrick wasn’t with him. He’d walked out on her just like Cameron. What was it about her that drove men away? Sinking her face onto her crossed arms, she gave in to the tears that clogged her throat.

  She didn’t even care when she and the two children were the only ones left in the cellar, and silence settled over them. Then, suddenly, a long shadow fell across her, blotting out the light of the lantern.

  “Becky?”

  The dearly familiar voice brought her head up with a jerk. “Garrick?”

  Before she even had time to register that it was truly her husband, Garrick had pulled her to her feet and into his arms. “It’s all right, little one,” he whispered to the top of her head. “The Indians aren’t coming here. You’re safe.”

  “I thought you weren’t coming back.”

  “What?” Startled by her words, Garrick tipped her head back and stared down into the tear-drenched eyes. “I wouldn’t leave you,” he said, stroking the line of her jaw with his thumb.

  The soft velvet of her eyes deepened, and he swallowed convulsively. Even with a blotchy, tear-streaked face, she was irresistible. Unable to stop himself, he lowered his head and touched his mouth to hers. His breath escaped in a rush as her lips opened beneath his, welcoming the tender invasion eagerly.

  Becky breathed in his scent, glorying in the remembered pleasure of it. As his tongue tentatively explored the inside of her mouth, she decided he tasted as good as he smelled. Her hands traced the muscular plane of his back in wonder. He was so big and strong, so very male. It was as though her daydreams had come to life as her body sagged against his solid warmth and the world disappeared in a swirl of desire so intense it curled her toes.

  “Mama?”

  Reality returned with a rush as the plaintive little voice sounded next to them.

  “Oh, Zachariah.” Becky reluctantly released her husband and looked down at the little boy. “It’s all right, we’ll take you to your mama.” She glanced at Garrick. “The woman outside the door, is she all right?”

  “Ja, she is fine.”

  “We heard her scream.”

  Becky could have sworn he blus
hed. “She wasn’t as glad to see me as you were. When I came through the door, she started in, and we couldn’t get her to stop. Why was she out there anyway?”

  “She’s afraid of closed-in places. Said she’d rather take her chances with the Indians.”

  “Indians maybe, but not Norwegians,” he said with a grin then hunkered down next to Zachariah. “What do you say, little man? Shall we go find your mama?”

  Zachariah regarded him solemnly for a moment, then removed his fingers from his mouth. “Are you a good giant or a mean one?”

  Garrick bit back a laugh. “Oh, definitely a good one.”

  “Then I go wiv you.”

  “All right then, up you go.” Garrick stood and swung the boy up onto his shoulders. Moments later he winced in surprise as the little fingers grabbed two handfuls of his blond mane, and Becky clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles.

  “It was your type that laughed when they threw the Christians to the lions,” he said with mock severity.

  Still grinning, Becky picked up the baby and followed them to the door of the cellar amid Zachariah’s squeals of delight. Once again, she thought of the children they might have some day and smiled to herself. He would be a good father, far better than hers had been.

  When they reached the door, Garrick stopped and swung the little boy into his arms. “You’re such a big boy we won’t fit through the door.” The opening was so small he practically had to bend double to get out.

  Becky came out just in time to see Marcia grab Zachariah out of Garrick’s grasp as though she was afraid he’d harm the boy.

  “It’s all wight, Mama,” Zachariah said, smiling up at Garrick. “He’s a nice giant.”

  “Here’s your baby.” Becky’s voice was frosty as she transferred the infant to his mother. “By the way, this is my husband.”

  The woman’s eyes widened. “N-nice to meet y-you,” she stammered, but the look she gave Becky was one of pity as she gathered her children and fled the building.

  Becky stared after the other woman indignantly. “Well, I never!”