Mail Order Devastation (Montana Mail Order Brides, Book 4) (18 page)

Chapter 26

Monday, March 9, 1891

Noah had spent the last few days watching the light fade from Mollie’s eyes.  She pasted on a smile, but the smile never reached those beautiful blue eyes.  He knew she was putting on a brave face, but inside the loss of her daughter was eating away at her.

He hoped to lift her spirits in some small way, so he
’d asked his mother to watch the shop while he went to look for a gift for Mollie.

The days were finally warming up, with the sun peeking through the clouds a bit more each day.  The worst of the ice on the streets and sidewalks had mostly disappeared, but the ruts in the road were still hardened with frost for all but the warmest hours of the day.  But it wouldn
’t be long before the Main Street turned to mud, as it did every spring thaw.

Noah was so occupied trying to decide which shop he should try first that he almost bumped right into Clay Porter, who was spreading rock salt on the last bit of ice in front of the butcher shop.

“Hey there, Noah, where’s the fire?”

“
Huh?  Oh, hey there, Clay.  Just have a lot on my mind, I suppose.”

“
I heard.” Clay lowered his voice.  “Word spreads fast around here.  Sorry for your wife’s troubles.”

Noah knew he was referring to Mollie
’s arrest.  More than one woman had come into the shop, trying to fish for information.  His mother had skillfully changed the subject each time, and shamed the women into buying something, rather than admit they were shopping more for gossip than for material goods.  Fortunately, he could always count on men to keep their curiosity under their hat, and talk about the weather.

As if on cue, Clay looked up at the sky. 
“Nice to finally see the sun, isn’t it?”

“
Sure is.  I’m eager for spring.  Then I can take Mollie out and show her all of Helena.  Maybe have a picnic or take a ride out across the valley.”

“
She’ll love that.  It’s one of Madeline’s—”

The sound of loud voices interrupted them.

“What’s that?” Noah asked, looking around.  At first he couldn’t identify where the voices were coming from.  Then he looked over his shoulder and realized they were coming from the saloon across the street and a few doors down.  A wagon parked out front kept him from seeing the two people involved in the argument.

“
Darn saloon, again,” Clay muttered.  “I wish the town would put in a stronger zoning law, and try to keep those places on the south end of Main.  I hate that there is so much ruckus right across the street from where my children live.”

“
Makes me glad I bought a house away from the shop.”

“
Believe me, I’m thinking you were very smart with that decision.  It’s not bad most of the time, but all it takes is one drunk trying to start trouble.”

The door opened to the butcher shop and Madeline stepped out, shivering in the chilly air. 
“What’s all the noise about?  Is it the saloon again?”

“
Yep.” Clay nodded, craning his head.  “Can’t see much from here.  It sounds like one of them is a woman.”

“
It is.”  Madeline raised up on her tiptoes.  “I think that’s Sadie Morgan’s hat I’m seeing over the wagon.”

“
Again?  Didn’t she just have a loud argument outside the saloon last week, when they asked her to leave?”

Madeline pursed her lips. 
“What is that woman thinking, going into a saloon, much less getting
drunk
in public?  I’m glad Jake and Lilly are away, and not forced to witness this.  If only she’d go back to Billings.”

“
Not likely, now that her beau—or whatever you want to call him—has jilted her.”

“
She should have seen that coming.  But turning to drink won’t solve her problems.”

“
It’s getting a little loud over there,” Noah said, becoming concerned.  “Do you think she’s alright?”

“
It’s probably just the barkeep, making her leave,” Clay said.  “This isn’t the first scene she’s caused—”

Madeline stepped to the side, peering at the spectacle. 
“Clay!” she gasped.  Her face had gone pale, and she reached out for her husband, trembling.

“
What?”  Clay grasped her arm with a steadying hand. 

“
It’s Samuel Croft!”

Clay moved so fast, everything was a blur to Noah. 

“Lock the door,” he said, dragging Madeline toward the shop, “get the children upstairs, and don’t come outside, no matter what.”

“
No, come inside with me—” she clutched at his sleeve.

“
I’m not leaving any woman to face that man alone,” Clay disentangled his arm, and opened the shop door, pushing her inside.  “Now go!  And have Herman telephone the police.”  He pushed the door shut, ignoring her protests.  After a moment, she complied with her husband’s orders, and the lock clicked into place.

Noah didn
’t know why Madeline Porter seemed so afraid, but he himself could hear the tone of the argument across the street taking a turn for the worse.  The woman wasn’t being ejected from the saloon.  Something more sinister was afoot. 

He stepped off the curb, crossing the street with a mere glance at the oncoming wagons.

“Wait for me!” Clay called.  “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.  He’s probably armed.”

“
That mean you’re going to stand by and do nothing?” Noah asked, without stopping.  As they came around the wagon, he could see a woman yelling at a man to let her go.  Her arm was being held fast by a short, heavy-set, scraggly looking man, about twenty years her senior.

“
Hell no,” Clay snapped.  “But we need to—”

“
Croft!”

Both men were startled, stopping in their tracks beside the wagon that had blocked their view of the saloon.  A voice had erupted, loud and angry, over the din of the city street. 

“Let her go.  Now!”

Noah took a step forward, coming around the wagon, and saw the man who had called out.  He stood just to the right, past the saloon
—legs slightly apart, and his hand ready to draw his pistol.  He was dressed like a farmer, with dark hair that was greying at the temples.

Croft whirled at the man
’s orders, his hand still gripping the woman’s arm. Both he and the woman—Sadie—were drunk.  But her eyes were filled with terror, and his sparkled with malice. 

“
Don’t know who ya are, but mind yer own business, before you live to regret it,” Croft snarled. 

“
You’ve manhandled enough women.  I won’t let you harm another.”

Croft barked out a laugh. 
“Oh?  Well then, you must have an urgent desire to die, my friend.  You think you’ve got the upper hand, but there’s a saloon full of my ranch hands in there, and you’ll be dead before your pistol leaves the holster.”

“
Today’s as good a day as any to die,” the man announced, his face impassive.  “As long as I take your rotten hide down with me.”

Croft laughed again, pulling Sadie to his side. 
“Go home, man, before ya do something you’ll regret.”

“
I’ve already done something I regret.  I let my daughter come work for you.”

Croft
’s face went slack as something sparked in his memory. 

Noah stepped forward to take advantage of Croft
’s distraction, but Clay held him back.  Then everything happened at once.

Croft drew his weapon first.  Despite being drunk, the man must have been keen with a firearm, because he got off a shot before the other man had his pistol in hand.  It did him no good
—the shot went wild—and then the other man returned fire.  In a flash, Sadie stood alone, screaming.  Croft had released his hold on her, staggering back and crumpling to the ground, pistol still in his hand. 

More screams erupted around them as the people on the street around them reacted to the shots.  Men grabbed their wives, while women pulled their children close and shielded them.  Others ducked into doorways and behind wagons. 

A small crowd that had gathered several doors down from the saloon curled in on itself, screams and cries punctuated by loud voices. 

Noah and Clay ran toward Croft.  Noah got there first, mashing his boot down onto Croft
’s hand, pinning the pistol to the ground.  Clay bent down to wrench it from the man, and tucked it into the back of his waistband. 

“
You
,” Croft seethed, clutching his bleeding belly as he looked up at Clay. 

“
That’s right,” Clay said in a low voice, leaning over the wounded man.  “
Me
.  I warned you the last time I saw you in town that you’d die the same way you lived, if you didn’t change your ways.  That someday you’d have to face someone like me, who didn’t have the self-control to stop himself from doing to you what you’ve probably done to so many women over the years.”

The man let out a ragged laugh. 
“And why do you think I keep coming back to this here saloon?  To get a look at that pretty wife of yours.”

Clay nudged Croft
’s side with his boot, and Croft bellowed in pain.  “Gut wound, huh?  Gee, Croft, that must hurt a lot.  That’s a slow, painful way to go…isn’t it Noah?”

“
Sure is.”  Noah had an inkling now of why Madeline Porter turned white as a sheet when she’d spied this miserable wretch of a man. 

Clay leaned down even further. 
“I’m just glad I get to be one of the last faces you see, before you die.”  He spat on the man’s face and turned away, walking over to the man who had fired the last shot, who stood motionless, in shock.

Croft tried to get up, to lunge toward Clay, but Noah held his wrist pinned to the ground still, with his foot. 

“Not so fast, my friend.”

“
I’m not your friend!” Croft snapped, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“
No. It sounds like you have no friends in this town.”

“
Let me through!” a voice said from behind.  An older man pushed his way through the gathering crowd, holding a small black leather bag.  “I’m a doctor.”

Sadie, who
’d collapsed onto the steps of the saloon, weeping and mumbling, stood and held her arms out.  “Doc!  Doc Archer, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!”

The man veered around Sadie. 
“Unless you’re shot, Sadie, step aside.”  He knelt beside Croft, checking his wound.  Croft was fading fast, barely clinging to consciousness.

“
Tell my boys to kill that varmint,” Croft muttered, closing his eyes.  “And tell that man that me and the boys enjoyed his daughter, right up to the end.”

Noah felt sick at the man
’s implication, and saw the man—the shooter—come to life again, lunging toward Croft.  Clay held him back.  Another man, emerging from the crowd, kicked Croft hard in the side, causing Croft to groan and curl up.

“
Enough!” the doctor hollered, standing up and holding out his hands.  “This man is my patient, and no matter how wretched he may be, I’ll not allow this to turn into a lynch mob.  It’s my job to make sure he survives long enough for the
courts
to hang him—not the lot of you.  Go back home.  All of you!”

He returned to Croft, who had passed out.  Opening the medical bag, he pulled out white cotton bandages and began packing the wound. 
“This man needs a hospital.  Someone bring a wagon!”

Sadie had returned to weeping on the saloon stairs, with plenty of sympathy and attention from several men.  The man who had shot Croft sagged into Clay
’s arms, weeping.

“
I did it for her.  For my Missy.  I was gonna do it, was waiting outside the saloon for him.  But then I changed my mind.  I was headed back to my wagon when I heard the arguing, and I realized it was him.  He was at it again.”

“
I know. Trust me, I know,” Clay said, patting the fellow on the back.

“
He was never gonna stop.  I knew that.  I just saw him holding that girl, and all I could see was my Missy, and I just thought about how that face—that cruel, miserable face—was probably the last thing she ever saw…”

“
Hey, Caldwell, listen to me…listen!”  He shook the man by the shoulders.  “The police have already been called.  When they get here, you don’t say a word about your daughter.  You hear me?  Not one word.”

“
But…why?  They need to know—”

“
All they need to know is that you were defending a poor woman who was being molested by a drunkard that is known around town for being violent with his ranch hands, and for manhandling women.  You warned him, and he drew on you.  You were defending yourself.  You were defending her.  Got it?  And if you say anything other than that, I’m going to sucker punch you myself, to get you to shut up.  You had no choice. 
No choice.
Got it?”