Romance In The Dark
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A soft, silky breeze rustled the trees. The sun had set and twilight covered everything with a gentle light. It was beautiful in its own way but nothing compared to what it would be like under full daylight. There were no people out there, just horses moving about at a slow trot. “I wish I could have brought my horse.” She wished she’d been able to bring her own mount instead of borrowing one from Morgan. She felt more comfortable on her own animal.
Morgan was already mounted when he rode up behind her and swung over his horse’s neck to dismount. He handed a rifle to her and took another from his saddlebag. He handed it to her next as well.
“Are you sure about this? You don’t have to come,” he said after he put his rifle away in the saddlebag.
“It’s your call whether or not we’re going after them but if you do decide to go I’m coming too. No one is getting away with kidnapping me or hurting anyone else. They are all going down, one way or another. We will take care of this tonight and then go back to your house.” She turned to face him. “Do you think your family knows that we know they are here?”
He nodded. “They know they’re alive and safe somewhere. That’s why we need to get out of town and start our search. If the outlaws find us here, they’ll assume we’ve already found them. It won’t look good for them.”
She didn’t want any part in this but it wouldn’t matter much either way now. “What about the sheriff’s office? What happens if someone finds their trail first and comes back to report what happened?”
“There’s still time to send word to the sheriff’s office.” His gaze shifted away from hers. “We’re almost there. Let’s go and see how far the tracks lead us.”
His voice was calm and steady but she heard the tension in his words. She knew he wasn’t happy about having to go through with this but there wasn’t anything else he could do.
They followed the path the outlaws had taken and soon reached a small clearing where a single tree stood alone. The ground was torn up near the tree, suggesting that someone had passed by there before. As they neared, the grass grew shorter and taller toward each other as if something disturbed it.
The outlaws had left a trail behind. Their footprints and hoofprints were clearly visible, along with their boot prints.
When he saw her frown, he asked, “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize those footprints?”
“Of course I do! It’s the men who kidnapped me!” She couldn’t believe this. She hadn’t thought it would be so easy to follow these people after she fled.
“You did this?” Her gaze shot to his face.
“No. Someone else did. Maybe the marshal.”
“Who knows about this? Your father?”
“I told you. He doesn’t know.”
She nodded in response to his statement, but it made her uneasy. How many people could possibly know? What else was he hiding from her? Was his mother still alive? Where were his siblings? Had they known all this time where she was and not come for her? She felt betrayed by everyone, especially herself. Why had she ever trusted him when she’d never trusted anyone else in her life?
“Come on,” he said, taking off down the path. She hurried to keep pace with him but stopped dead in her tracks when they came around the corner of a large oak and saw three men sitting inside a wagon surrounded by several barrels.
They appeared surprised to see them and quickly rose to their feet. One of the men wore blue jeans, boots, and a black leather jacket, while two others wore dark pants, boots, and a flannel shirt. They all sported wide-brimmed hats, which hid their faces and hair color, though some strands of gray showed among the brown locks.
“Hold it right there!” The man in the flannel shirt shouted. His voice carried across the open space to them. “We’re innocent! You can’t do this to us!”
Morgan aimed his rifle at the three men, who seemed stunned by his action. “Stand down, boys!”
All three men dropped their weapons as they backed away from the wagon, keeping their hands high in the air. “Put your guns down or we kill them!” Morgan yelled. “You have no idea what’s happening here. Now lower your weapons!”
Their arms lowered slowly, causing them to huddle together in an attempt to protect themselves from each other. When their hands fell, he gave them a nod. “Good,” he said quietly, motioning the rest of the men to join them. “Now let’s get out of here. There’s nothing we can do here.”
The men looked relieved to be out of danger and began climbing into their wagons and driving off down the road.
Morgan pulled back his hat and ran his hand over his sweaty forehead. She watched him closely as she wiped her own brow. They had been lucky to make it here without being seen, but it wouldn’t happen again. She didn’t trust these men. She could feel it. And they probably had a reason for leaving town so suddenly too.
After they left, she turned to him. “That was a close call. I wonder why they took off like that?”
“I don’t know.” He didn’t sound happy. “But we need to leave now. We should head toward the marshal’s house and then try to find someone else who might know where the outlaws are headed.”
A shiver went down her back at his suggestion. If she found the outlaws, it might mean returning to her life as an outlaw. She hadn’t expected it to happen but she had no other choice now. “Okay.”
He looked at her strangely and she realized he knew more than he was letting on about her background.
As soon as they reached the marshal’s office, she rushed inside to look for help. It was empty except for an older woman cleaning up a few papers. When she saw them enter, the lady smiled and waved them in. “I’m so glad you’ve come. Marshal Hanks isn’t in today. But I can give you the message he left with me.”
“Thank you.”
The woman led them to another room where they found a desk covered in stacks of paper. After removing some paperwork, she picked up a letter written on yellowed paper and handed it to Morgan.
“Here you go. It’s dated just last week.”
Morgan unfolded the sheet of paper and read aloud. “Dear Miss Adams, my condolences for losing your family member and your ranch.” He handed the paper back to her. “Did you write this?”
“Yes. My brother sent it to me.” She looked at him apologetically. “It was the only thing I had to remember them by since they died.”
Morgan placed the letter on the desk and picked up another piece of paper that appeared to be torn out of a book.
“What’s this?”
“A poem.” He held the paper out to her. “This is something I wrote before I started work on the ranch. I never finished it and it’s very personal to me. But I think it shows how much I miss my family. Here—”
She shook her head and turned to leave the office. “I’m sorry.”
“Wait a minute. Where are you going?”
“I’ll wait outside.”
With a sigh, he followed her and sat down beside her in the waiting area. “Miss Adams, I’d like to know if there’s anything I can do to help you get your land back.”
“How about telling me how you came to know about your grandfather and that mine belonged to him? I heard you were a lawyer, but I doubt anyone has ever asked you about it before. Why me?”
He hesitated. “I guess because I met you first.”
She thought for a moment and said, “That may be true, but that doesn’t mean I owe you any favors.”
Her comment caught him completely off guard, but he recovered quickly enough to offer one of his own. “Well, you’re welcome to take a look around.”
After the marshal’s secretary called the marshal and explained their situation, he hurried into the office to talk with Morgan while they waited for him to arrive. As they talked, Morgan glanced over at her. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider taking me up on my offer? You might find yourself in a bad situation when the outlaws return.”
“Why would they want my land? No one even knows it exists.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” The tone of his voice told her what his answer would have been if she had said yes.
“No,” she answered, not wanting to elaborate or argue with him. “I don’t think I can trust you anymore.”
Morgan stared at her as he considered her words. She didn’t seem like someone who had lost everything to the men who killed her family members. And her story about the land wasn’t exactly true either.
They were interrupted when Marshal Hanks entered the office. “Sorry I’m late, but I was just coming in from seeing a man who’s injured.” He pointed across the street to where a small crowd had gathered and three horsemen were riding through town.
“Where are the outlaws headed?”
Marshal Hanks shrugged. “Who cares? Let’s get back here to help those people.”
“We need to make a report before we can leave.”
Marshal Hanks looked at him and then turned to Morgan. “Let’s get out of here and meet up again later tonight at the saloon. That will give us time to gather some information and figure out what to do next. How does that sound?”
Morgan nodded. “Fine.”
When they left the marshal’s office, Morgan led the way back toward town. They went straight to the bank and deposited their money. Then they stopped at the telegraph office to send word to his partner that he couldn’t help him yet. He had to see to his family obligations. After leaving the telegraph, he led her to his favorite restaurant. It was a simple place with wooden tables and chairs and walls decorated by old saddles.
As soon as they arrived, Morgan asked the proprietor for two seats near the door so they could watch everyone come and go. He took his seat, ordered coffee and a sandwich for himself and a glass of milk for the woman.
“So, tell me about yourself,” he said as soon as she had taken a sip of the milky drink.
The waitress set down Morgan’s food on the table and walked away without responding. He watched her go. The young woman looked uncomfortable, but still offered him an innocent smile as she returned to the kitchen. “My name is Abigail Adams and…”
“…I know all about you and that you’re trying to keep me away from my family’s property.”
Abigail looked down and fiddled with the napkin in her lap. When she lifted her eyes, they seemed distant, but he recognized the sparkle in them as she looked at him. “It’s true,” she said quietly.
“But why? Do you really have any idea where the mine is located? Have you ever seen it?”
“I don’t know where it is exactly. All I’ve ever seen or heard of it was from the stories my father used to tell me about it, and they weren’t very specific.”
Morgan sipped his coffee and tried not to show his disappointment. “You don’t believe me?”
She shrugged. “I’m sure you’re a good man, Mr. Dutton. A lot of people say they’re honest, but most aren’t. But I don’t know anything about this land or how you found out it belonged to me.”
“You don’t believe me?” he repeated.
“I’m sorry. It’s just hard for me to believe any of it.”
“Well, let me ask you something else. Why did you choose me of all the men in Denver to hire? What made you think I’d be able to help you?”
A hint of a smile played around her lips. “Because you knew the names of my brothers and my sister.”
“How…?” His question died when he saw the look on her face. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Only your wife gave me that information, and I only wanted to help you get the land back.”
He stood up, his hands shaking. “That’s enough, Abigail!”
Her gaze shifted from her plate to his face, her eyes filled with pain as she looked at him. “Mr. Dutton…”
“Don’t call me that! Just tell me what you did.”
She shook her head. “I just told her where you lived, that’s all. We needed someone to help us because no one else would.”
“Who?”
“Your wife.”
Morgan felt sick. He thought he had finally gotten away from her; now he realized that wasn’t possible. “Why?”
“For the land,” she answered simply. “Just like you wanted to reclaim yours.”
He leaned over the table so close that his hot breath washed over her face. “Get out of here!”
Her lips trembled as tears welled in her eyes. “No, please don’t hurt me.”
She was begging him to kill her, but all he could feel was pity for the young woman who believed she was doing the right thing. As he reached for his gun, he remembered his promise to his partner. If anyone had harmed his wife, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill them, even if it meant spending the rest of his life in prison. But there was nothing he could do for Abigail. She had to pay for her crime.
With a sigh, Morgan put away his gun. With her eyes closed, she sat motionless and silent. Then, before the waitress came to take their plates away, he picked up her napkin and wiped her face. She opened her eyes. For a moment she looked bewildered, then smiled.
“Thank you for letting me finish my breakfast.”
“Good-bye, Miss Adams,” he said softly. “And thank you for telling me your real name.”
The End