A Promise to Believe in (38 page)

Rafe stepped out the back door of his saloon and stared at the darkened structure of the Gallatin House. It was nearly two in the morning, and he knew the Gallatins were safely tucked in their beds. He knew, too, that Hank Bishop had gone. Cubby had told him that much. Apparently, Bishop had found some valuable papers his brother had brought to Montana and was now heading back East.

Cubby didn’t know if Bishop planned to return but said that Nick and Simon felt sure he would. They offered two strong reasons to suspect this. One was the store Bishop was building. The second was Gwen Gallatin.

Rowdy laughter came from behind him as someone bellowed out that Lady Luck was his tonight. This was quickly followed by several lewd comments and more laughter. Rafe narrowed his eyes and continued to stare at the Gallatin property. He’d never wanted anything so much in his life as he did that operation. He already had additional girls heading to Montana from a cathouse in Seattle. There was great potential for what he could do, if only he had that house and land.

“Something wrong, boss?” Wyman called from behind.

Rafe turned and nodded. “I don’t own the Gallatin House yet—that’s what’s wrong.”

Wyman laughed. “It’s just a matter of time, and you will. Those ladies aren’t going to want to stay around once they see how difficult life can be without a man. We’ll have them so defeated and worn down, they’ll be asking you for a job.”

Rafe chuckled. “Now, that would be something—the Gallatin girls working for me. I can’t say I’d mind that one little bit.”

“Didn’t think you would,” Wyman replied.

“Still, we need a plan.”

“I’ve been thinking on that, boss. I’m thinkin’ that with those extra girls you have coming, and the fact that we have additional ranches setting up in the surrounding area, things could get mighty destructive around here. Who’s to say what might happen?”

“I don’t much care what happens to those girls, but I want that house in one piece. There’s no sense in going to all the trouble to get the place if there isn’t a place to be had.”

Wyman nodded. “Oh, there will be a place, all right. Maybe two places, if that store goes up right away. Mark my word, we’ll make life so miserable around here that those ladies will pack their bags and head out on one of the stages they’ve catered to.”

Rafe yawned and pushed past Wyman to head back into the saloon. “You’d better be right. We can’t afford to let this place grow any more respectable.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Gwen looked out the front door of Gallatin House and sighed. Major Worthington gave her a forlorn look, then followed her gaze down the road. They were both wondering when Hank would return.

“He’s been gone two months,” she told the dog. “I thought he’d be back by now.”

The harvest was rapidly coming together in the valley. Lacy’s twentieth birthday had come and gone earlier in the month, and Calvin had become father to a litter of Lassiter kittens. So much had already taken place without having Hank near to share it.

Of course, he had sent a letter to let her know he’d made it back to Boston and would soon head to Rhode Island to see his mother. The letter, which came exactly one month to the day of Hank’s departure, had been brief. He wrote of how much he missed and loved her, then offered reassurances that he’d return to Montana as soon as his business was concluded. But since then, there’d been nothing more. Gwen knew the mail ran slow and knew, too, that Hank might have been too busy to write. Still, she couldn’t help but worry.

She stepped outside, and Major got to his feet. He followed her from the porch to the north side of the house. There, Gwen gazed upon the simple log structure that was to be Hank’s mercantile. It had been finished and waiting for him for over two weeks. Brewster Sherman had come several times with wagons full of merchandise. He, too, was anxious for Hank’s return so the store could become operational.

He wasn’t the only one. Most of the community was enthralled with the idea of a store opening. It seemed someone stopped in at Gallatin House almost every day to ask when the mercantile would be open for business.

“I wish I knew,” Gwen murmured.

She looked down at Major and smiled. “Come on, boy. Wishing won’t make him get here any sooner.” They made their way back to the house, where Major resumed his vigilant position on the porch, while Gwen made her way inside.

“Did you know we’ve managed to save nearly twenty dollars?” Beth asked as Gwen joined her sisters in the kitchen. She placed a handful of coins in a metal box. “Those surveyors really added to our business.”

“If we keep going at this rate,” Lacy said, “we’ll have the loan on Gallatin House paid.”

Gwen nodded and went to the cupboard to take down a bowl. “It would be nice to have all that debt gone.”

Beth closed the lid of the small strongbox. “The survey team said they’d be back before winter set in, so that might see us profiting another few dollars, depending on how long they stay with us.”

“Could be,” Gwen agreed. She went to a stack of potatoes she’d brought up earlier from the cellar. “Of course, there are a few things we need before winter sets in. We should pay someone to cut a supply of wood. And it might not hurt to have some new blankets. The old ones are getting pretty threadbare.”

“Hank can cut wood for us when he gets back,” Lacy said.

“He’ll be busy running the store,” Beth countered.

Gwen smiled. “You are both so sweet to have such faith that he’ll return. I know you’re doing that to encourage me.”

Beth put the strongbox in the cupboard and turned. “I only say it because I believe it. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t lie to you. This family has endured enough of that.”

Gwen nodded. “I agree, but I’m thankful, nevertheless. You are the best sisters a girl could have.” She picked up a paring knife and began to peel the potatoes. “Lacy, will you be able to ride over to—”

“I’m sorry to just walk in,” a weak voice called.

Gwen looked up and found Ellie standing in the doorway. She held a blood-soaked cloth to her throat. “What happened? Beth, get her a chair. Lacy, get me some hot water and towels.” Gwen hurried to the woman’s side. “Why are you bleeding?”

Ellie turned her pale face upward and grimaced with pain. “I got cut. That’s really all I dare say. Rafe won’t send for the doctor. He said it would take too long and cost too much. He suggested I come here and see if you couldn’t patch me up.”

“Here, sit,” Beth said as she positioned a wooden chair behind Ellie.

Unladylike words regarding Rafe were on the tip of her tongue, but Gwen held them back. She took hold of the cloth, and Ellie’s hand fell away as if she were too weak to continue holding it in place. She sank onto the chair, and Beth steadied her shoulders when Ellie started to lean to one side.

Pulling the cloth back gently, Gwen could see that the cut on her neck, while not all that long, was deep. “It will have to be stitched.” She met Beth’s worried expression. “Get the laudanum.”

“Oh no,” Ellie said. “Rafe would never allow for me to be drugged. I’d be no use to him.”

“I can’t sew you up without giving you something for the pain,” Gwen countered.

Ellie bit her lower lip, then drew a ragged breath. “I can bear it. Just do it quickly.”

Gwen thought the woman looked so defeated—so haggard. Her blond hair was stringy and dirty and her face, pale from the trauma, was gaunt. A rage built inside Gwen that threatened to spill over at any moment. She forced it down and prayed for peace and calm in order to handle the task at hand.

Lacy returned with a stack of towels and a bucket of hot spring water. “I brought this, too,” she said after setting the other items down. She pulled a small bottle of whiskey from her apron pocket. It was the alcohol they kept for medicinal purposes.

“Good thinking,” Gwen said. She took the bottle and motioned to one of the dining room tables. “Beth, get a cloth to cover the table. We’ll let Ellie lie down while we work on her wound. Lacy, run get my sewing basket.”

The girls quickly accomplished their tasks while Gwen began to clean the cut. “Who did this?”

Ellie closed her eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me. I intend to see the man punished.”

“The table’s ready,” Beth called.

“Come help me with Ellie.” Gwen put a makeshift bandage over the wound. “Can you hold it just for a few seconds, Ellie?”

“I think so.”

“Once we get you to the table, you can rest.” Gwen helped Ellie place her hand in the right position before getting the girl to her feet. She quickly realized that Ellie was so light, she hardly needed Beth’s help—the girl had wasted away to nothing in the last few months. It pained her to see how poorly Rafe cared for them.

Ellie closed her eyes the second they helped her to lie down. It was clear she had fainted, and Gwen thought it a gift from God.

“Let’s work fast; maybe she won’t regain consciousness before we finish.” Gwen opened the bottle of whiskey. “Lacy, after I pour some of this on the wound, you thread a needle with the stout quilting thread, then soak all of it in some of this whiskey.”

Her younger sister nodded. Gwen cleaned the wound and was grateful to see that the bleeding was slowing considerably. Beth held Ellie’s head in place, just in case she woke up during the stitching, while Lacy took the whiskey and poured some over the needle and thread.

As soon as she was satisfied that she’d done all she could to cleanse the cut, Gwen went to work stitching. Ellie didn’t so much as move, which almost caused Gwen more alarm than satisfaction. She feared the poor girl had probably gone into shock, yet there was little Gwen could do to help her.

Lacy stood ready with the scissors, clipping the thread after Gwen tied off each stitch. As Gwen finished with the seventh and final stitch, she looked to Beth. “Tear two strips of cloth. We’ll make a bandage with one and secure it by wrapping the other piece around her neck.”

Ellie rallied just as they finished. She looked up, rather confused, then recognition flooded her face. “Are you done?”

“Yes,” Gwen said, smiling. “Are you sure you won’t have some laudanum? I could talk to Rafe and tell him that it was necessary—that it was my doing.”

Struggling to sit up, Ellie shook her head. For a moment, it seemed she might faint again, but she fought against it. “I have to get back to work.” She put her hand to her head. “I’m a bit dizzy.”

“Lacy, get her a glass of buttermilk. That should give her strength.”

Ellie smiled ever so slightly. “My mama used to give me buttermilk. I haven’t had it in ever so long.”

Gwen pushed back Ellie’s hair and smiled. “You are welcome to come have a glass with us anytime you like. In fact, I’m really worried about you. You’ve lost a lot of weight, and you don’t look well. I think I speak for my sisters when I say we’d like you to come stay with us. At least until you’re well again.”

“I can’t,” Ellie said, resignation in her voice. “Rafe owns my contract. He says I’ve cost him way too much money to let me go.”

“No one owns anyone,” Beth declared. “The War Between the States settled that. Slavery is against the law.”

Bringing the glass, Lacy steadied it while Ellie downed the contents. “I feel better,” she assured Gwen. She got to her feet and swayed a bit. “Really, I’m all right.”

“Ellie! Where are you?” Rafe bellowed from the front room. He blasted out a string of obscenities, then looked around the corner into the dining room. “I told you to get fixed up, not move in.”

“She’s sick, Rafe. Can’t you see how thin she is?” Gwen stepped toward the saloon owner. “Not only that, but she’s in shock from the loss of blood. How in the world can you treat these women so poorly?”

“It ain’t your business.”

“I’m making it my business,” Gwen said, moving so close she was nearly nose to nose with the man. “I hope you at least had the decency to take care of the lowlife scum who cut her.”

Rafe threw back his head and laughed. Gwen stepped away a pace in surprise. “I’m the lowlife scum,” he announced. “She got lippy with me, and I showed her the price for bein’ mouthy.”

“You? You cut her?” Gwen asked in disbelief. “You’re an animal, Rafe Reynolds. I knew you could be mean, but I had no idea you were this cruel.”

“Lady, you have no idea what I’m capable of.”

By now, Ellie had come to stand beside Gwen. “They patched me up, Rafe. I’m all done now.”

“She’s weak and in pain,” Gwen said between gritted teeth.

“I don’t care.” Rafe shrugged. “She brought it on herself.”

“I’m going to speak to the sheriff about this,” Lacy declared.

Rafe laughed. “You do that. You’ll have about as much success with this as you had in findin’ your pappy’s killer.” He reached out and grabbed Ellie. “Get back to the saloon.”

She went quickly and without a word, which caused Rafe to smile. “Now, that’s the kind of obedience that keeps a woman from getting cut.”

“You are . . . you’re a . . .” Gwen doubled her fists. “Oh, I can’t think of anything bad enough to call you.”

“It wouldn’t matter,” Rafe said, laughing. “I’ve been called far worse than anything your sweet little Christian mouth could come up with.” He turned to follow Ellie out but stopped when Gwen made her next announcement.