Small Treasures (31 page)

Abby gave him a teary smile. "Of course

I want you! Now, why don't you go see

Minerva and get those blankets she promised us?"

"All right." With his hands in his pockets, his head bent, Luke shambled slowly out of the storeroom, headed for the stairs.

Abby sat back on her heels and drew a shuddering breath. What if she was doing the wrong thing? Was she being fair to Luke?

The Mercantile clock struck nine, and Abby leapt up. Samuel would be coming to town soon for that hearing. She wanted to be well away from Rock Creek before he arrived. Quickly she walked back to her cot and began once more to pack their bags.

At ten-thirty Samuel rode down the center of Main Street. The wind shrieked down the narrow road. Pine trees quivered and golden aspen leaves were tossed and twirled through the air. Samuel turned the collar of his coat up and glanced at the sky. Menacing black clouds hovered over Rock Creek, and he knew without a doubt there would be snow before evening. Maybe a lot of it.

He cast one quick look at the Mercantile, then forced himself to turn away. He didn't want to run into Abby. At least, not until they were standing in front of the judge. After three days of living without her… he had no idea what he'd do when he first saw her. Kiss her into submission — or strangle her for shattering his peaceful life!

He nodded briefly at the townspeople he passed and couldn't help but wonder why no one seemed very friendly. Even Preacher Knight, standing on the boardwalk in front of the livery, gave him a hard and disapproving stare.

Samuel shrugged and tried to ignore it. But now that he'd become accustomed to a warm welcome, hostile glances were harder to shrug off.

As he stepped down from his horse and tied it to the hitching rail outside the Lucky Lady Saloon, Samuel felt dozens of pairs of eyes boring into his back. His shoulders twitched uneasily, but he straightened up and marched into the dark saloon.

Only a few of the tables were occupied. Like most small towns, when there was a legal matter to attend to, the nearest saloon became a courthouse, and sales of liquor stopped until after court was closed.

Samuel looked toward the bar and spied an older man with a long mustache and a hard gleam in his blue eyes. Since the man was also dressed in a somber black coat and was standing behind the bar, Samuel guessed him to be the judge.

Then the man spoke. "You Samuel Hart?" "That's right." He took a step closer and pulled off his hat.

"I'm Judge Zebulon Hackett." The man waved imperiously at Samuel. "Step up here, boy, and we'll get this business settled."

A few muttered comments floated about the room, but they were too low-pitched for Samuel to understand them. He walked up to the bar and stopped directly opposite Judge Hackett. He stood still while the older man looked him up and down, then frowned disgustedly.

"So you're Samuel Hart."

"Yeah…" Samuel said warily. He didn't much care for the look on the judge's face, and the mutterings behind him were getting louder now. He distinctly heard someone say, "Imagine doin' that to a poor little thing like her… "

Her? The only her they could be talking about was Abby. Samuel's brow wrinkled. Where the hell was Abby? Shouldn't she be there?

"Before I pass judgment on this matter," Judge Hackett said slowly, "I want to know do you have anything you want to say?"

"About what?"

Hackett groaned and slapped his hand down on the bar. "About what we're doin' here, man! About why I was sent for! About your damn cabin and the poor woman you dispossessed."

"Dispossessed?"

Judge Hackett's lips twisted and his mustache twitched. "Dispossessed. Cast out. Got rid of. Chased away."

"Now, wait a minute…" Samuel's chest swelled with indignation. He pointed a finger at the judge, who stared at him accusingly.

"Out of order!" Judge Hackett shouted and slapped the bar again.

"You tell 'im, Judge!" someone shouted.

Samuel spun around, looking for the owner of the voice, then quickly turned back when Hackett started speaking again. "You sayin' it ain't true about chasin' Abby Sutton off your land?"

"I didn't chase her off —"

"Did ya ask her to stay?"

"Well, no… " "Did ya even bother to talk to her about all this?" "No…" Samuel glared at the man defensively. "I figured that was your job!"

Judge Hackett shook his head. Nope. Pushin' the blame off on the law won't do you no good." The older man looked up at Samuel through hard eyes. "Now, you listen to me. I got a letter here, written by Abby Sutton."

Samuel's eyebrows rose.

"That's right," Hackett said. "In the letter she says she don't want your damn land, nor your cabin. Says she gives up all rights to it. Wants you to have it."

Samuel stared blankly, as if he'd been hit in the head with an ax handle.

"You should be surprised!" Judge Hackett shook one finger at Samuel and leaned forward. "She told me everything, and mister, if I had my way, you'd be horsewhipped for treatin' a fine little thing like you done! But I can't do that. Instead, I have to give you full title to your land."

Stunned, Samuel's jaw dropped.

"But that don't mean I have to look at you!" He turned away and grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the nearest shelf. "You get out of here." Then louder, he said, "Bar's open!»

As thirsty men pushed past him, Samuel walked slowly toward the double front doors. He couldn't believe it. Abby gave up the cabin? The land? But she'd wanted it so badly. It just didn't make sense. Unless, he told himself in amazement, unless she really did want him. Not the land.

He stepped through the batwing doors and stopped on the boardwalk. Behind him he heard men laughing and talking with the judge and realized that he hadn't argued with a single thing the man had said to him. Suddenly he knew it was because he'd deserved it. That and more. Why, he wouldn't blame Abby if she never spoke to him again. He glanced down the street at the Mercantile and started moving toward it. He had to try. He had to talk to Abby. He had to try to convince her to forgive him.

He couldn't lose her.

"You're too late," Minerva said flatly. "She's gone." At his blank look she continued. "You figure she was just gonna sit around Rock Creek waitin' on you? That there is a fine woman. Too good for the likes of you! She needs to find her a man who'll know how lucky he is to have her!" She glared at him, then turned and walked to the counter. "Like I told you… she's gone."

"Gone?" Samuel followed the woman across the store. "What do you mean, gone?"

She frowned at him over her shoulder. "How many things you figure I could mean?" "Now, Minerva," Alonzo said softly,

"maybe you should tell him —"

" 'Lonzo, you hush!" She glared at her husband, then at Samuel. "The only thing I'm gonna tell this big ol'. . . man is that he durn near broke Abby's heart!"

Samuel sighed and stared at the ceiling. "I know that, Minerva, that's why I want to find her now."

"Want to finish the job?"

"No!"

Minerva didn't turn a hair when Samuel's voice thundered out. "Don't you take that tone with me Samuel Hart. I'll not be talked to in such a manner!" She took two quick steps toward him and heatedly poked him in the chest. "And I'm not the kind to go runnin' for cover when a jackass brays too loud!"

Alonzo shook his head and smiled. Samuel took a deep breath to steady himself. "I'm sorry, Minerva."

She blinked.

"You're right. I was a jackass!"

She blinked again, then narrowed her gaze to study him.

"And that's why I want to find Abby," he continued. "To tell her I'm a jackass."

"Hell," Minerva said quickly, "she knows that!"

Samuel rubbed his jaw viciously. "Well, does she know that I want her to marry me?"

A slow smile spread over Minerva's face. "No, she don't. You know, there may be some hope for you yet, Samuel."

"Pleased to hear you think so," he said softly. "Now, will you tell me where she is?"

Minerva glanced uneasily at Alonzo. He shrugged and nodded. "All right. Her and Luke took off a couple hours ago."

"Took off? For where?"

"Anywhere." Minerva looked at him worriedly. "Truth is, I'm a mite concerned, 'specially now that the weather's turnin'."

"Where are they?" Samuel's face was tight. His voice strained. If Minerva was worried, there was no telling what had happened.

"Walkin' over the mountain."

"What?"

"I know, I know." Minerva gripped her hands together. "I tried to tell her. Tried to get her to take horses and head for Wolf River first. But she wouldn't. A harder head I never met."

"Why didn't you stop her?" "You ever tried to stop Abby when she's got her mind set on somethin'?"

Samuel sighed. He had. And he knew how useless it was. "Where the hell are they goin'?" Samuel asked.

"All they said was 'west.' "

"Son of a bitch!" Samuel cursed softly. He looked down at Minerva and saw the worry on the woman's face. Immediately he said, "Will you get me some supplies, Minerva? I'll get the horses."

"You're goin' after her, then?" Minerva smiled, more relieved than she cared to admit.

"Hell, yes." He stomped over to the front door and yanked it open. Looking up at the sky again, he muttered, "Fool woman can't even tell there's a storm blowin' in!"

Samuel raced out the door, and Minerva turned to her husband. She blinked back sudden tears and said, "You was right, 'Lonzo. He does love her."

"I know." Her husband smiled gently. "Let's get that gear together for him."

Something soft and wet touched Abby's cheek, and she shivered. She hadn't counted on it being so cold. For weeks they'd had nothing but the nicest weather. And now, the day when she needed it most, they got… a white flake swept past her nose. Snow.

She looked up anxiously. The clouds seemed close enough to touch. In fact, the higher she and Luke climbed, the more it seemed as if they were walking straight into the clouds. The heavy gray mist was settling around them, covering them in a bone-chilling cold. Abby looked ahead at Luke. The boy's head was bent as he tried to huddle into the collar of his coat. She knew he had to be tired and hungry, but he hadn't made a word of complaint.

Suddenly the enormity of what she'd done struck Abby. She was risking not only her own life, but Luke's as well. In her stubborn foolishness she'd attempted something that neither of them was prepared for. Perhaps the wisest thing to do, she told herself was to hole up somewhere, wait out the storm, and then go back to Rock Creek. After she'd earned enough money, they could leave town again. Only the next time they would take a stage or hire some horses.

"Luke!" Her voice barely carried over the wind.

He turned and came back.

"Do you know where we are?" she asked.

"Sure." He squinted and looked around at the surrounding pines and aspen. "At least, I'm pretty sure." Abby stifled the sudden fear that gripped her. Lost? In a snowstorm? Fear wouldn't help them now. Thinking fast, she said, "Look for a likely place, Luke. We'll set in and wait out the storm."

He chewed at his lip nervously, then nodded. Together, they started walking again, this time searching for a safe place to hide.

Samuel cursed and used the pressure of his knees to urge his tired horse forward. The animal dipped its huge head and plodded on, leading the packhorse following close behind. The wind had picked up. Snow was flying, and Samuel watched the trees around him bend with the wind. He'd been riding for two hours and hadn't seen a trace of them. And with the snow covering tracks as soon as they were made, Samuel knew that he would need more luck than skill in finding them.

He reached up with one gloved hand and pushed his hat down more firmly. This was all his fault. It was his own stupidity that made Abby strike out on her own. If he hadn't been so damn stubborn, he'd have gone into town after her days ago. How could he have convinced himself that she was using him? It just wasn't in her nature to be anything but loving and honest.

The packhorse suddenly stopped, and Samuel jerked at the reins to get him moving again. Hell, he didn't even know if he was in the right place to start looking for them. For all he knew, they'd gone down the other side of the mountain. But he was counting on Luke taking Abby on the easiest route. And the other mountain face was mostly sheer drops with mighty few handholds.

He ducked as he rode under an ancient pine. Snow, dislodged from an overhanging branch, dropped down the collar of his jacket. Samuel turned slightly in the saddle, reached back, and brushed away what he could. Then he stopped. Squinting, he stared at a rocky ledge about fifteen feet off on his right.

There it was again. A brief flash of light. Like a fire. He turned the horses and made for it, hoping he was right.

Abby and Luke huddled around the small fire. Gently she fed the struggling flames one piece of wood at a time. She had to keep the fire going. Without it they would surely freeze.

Thank heaven, she told herself, that Luke had found this ledge. An overhang of rock with heavy brush on two sides, it at least offered some protection from the wind. Even though enough blustery air came through the barrier to threaten their small fire.

Abby looked up. Staring out into woods, she listened carefully. She heard it again.

Someone or something was out there. Getting closer. Quietly she picked up a fair-sized branch and moved next to Luke.

"What is it?" the boy whispered.

"I don't know. But…"

A huge figure loomed up just outside of the firelight. In the stormy darkness Abby could only make out a big, burly shape. But Luke's eyes were sharper. He jumped up and ran toward it, yelling, "Samuel!"

Abby released her breath and dropped the heavy branch with relief. When she looked up, she saw Samuel walking toward her, one hand on Luke's shoulder, the other holding the reins of two horses he was leading into their campsite.